Searching for Love
by Mrs. James Harold Potter
Summary: Lily Evans had everything. Money, parents, and men waiting on her hand and foot. James Potter, lived, although tragic, an otherwise happy life. Two different people, who couldn't have been more alike. They both longed for love. Alternate Universe.
1. Lily

Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately, own any part of Harry Potter book series. J.K. Rowling does. (Although, perhaps I could strike a deal and take James Potter for my own!)

**Author Note: Okay, this is my first story in a long time. I took a break from it, and took to role playing, but after a fashion, I have come to the decision to continue writing. Hence, this story. It is James and Lily still, only in a different world. Okay, I'm ranting…on with the story! Okay—so just so no one gets confused…they don't have magic or anything—but its in England.**

**In some ways, I was inspired with this story by Titanic, with the idea of an upper-class woman, falling in love with a man, in the lower class. In a lot of ways, these two stories are alike, and in other ways they will differ. I can ask nothing more than for my readers to be completely honest with me as you are reading the stories. I don't care if you flame, you just better have a reason why. Don't just say, 'Its not very good,' If you don't have any logical reasoning behind it.**

**I was also sort of inspired by Pirates of the Carribean, which I'm sure one of my totally supportive-of-my-writing friend, would appreciate, seeing as she eats, sleeps, stares at posters of, talks, makes references to Pirates. Not even joking.**

**I am a fast updater, so expect the next chapter, which I am planning to be from James' POV in the next one or two days. Yes—I am that amazing. One or two days are not that difficult to achieve. Without further a due, here is my newest creation**

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AND PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

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**_**Searching for Longing**_

Chapter One: Lily

Lillian Margaret Evans sat comfortably in her bedroom chamber, softly combing through her long, wavy red locks, untangling all of the knots. Her mother had always scolded her tersely of the way she let her hair flow freely behind her back. She didn't mind too much, although most times it was forced up into a tight bun. She loved letting it down at night, before she went to sleep, glowing auburn in the candlelight.

She placed the comb gently down in front of the mirror, frowning slightly at the envelope sitting in front of her. '_To My Dearest Lillian', _She opened the envelope, pulling out a letter, slightly tattered. It couldn't have been more than a few months old, but of course, she hadn't replied to it yet—not that it was something to look forward to either way.

'…_It would be my deepest honor to take your hand in marriage. Your father has finally given consent for our wedding to arrange. It shall be on April the seventeenth, this year. It is truly to be a magnificent event. Think of it this way, within a few months time, we be man and wife. A lovely thought, is it not?_

_Your love,_

_Jonathan A. Harrison _

Tears began to prick the backs of her eyes at the mere thought. Why did he call her 'Lillian'? She detested the name, constantly reminding her of the life she was forced to live. Often, Lily would introduce herself to people as Lily, although her mother would correct her, explaining that it was 'improper'. Simply for the sake of defiance, she continued introduce and writing her name as 'Lily'.

More than happy to veer her thinking off of the touchy subject, Lily turned her head back to the letter, tracing her long, smooth fingers over the ink that Jonathan's had so lovingly touched, ages ago. She knew Jonathan very well. A friend of their well-known prestigious family. He was a kindly young man, with brilliant blue eyes, and short blonde hair, smoothed over at the ends. She certainly enjoyed his company, seeing as they were close friends throughout childhood. Lily didn't love him though, as her father wanted him to. She was yet to fall in love with a man.

She was yet to fall in love with a man that made her heart race; one that the mere sight of caused her mind to go to the gutter. A man would love her with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, in which she could return the same love. They would sit at the lake's edge, watching the sunset, their feet dipping into its cool waters. Someone who she could talk to, tell her secrets to and expect the same in return.

Someone whose touch ran a shiver up her spine. Love. Something she had been desirous of from a young age. Something, although seemingly impossible to find; once discovered, was one of the most beautiful things. Something, which can be as sickening as a pile of manure, and as contagious as disease, still maintains a lovely stance at times. Something—which for the longest time, Lily Evans yearned for.

She was seventeen; in a few years time, she would be an adult. Her father, Alan, of course was expecting her to obtain an engagement by adulthood. He was the manager of an important company, selling mechanical supplies to their clients. Therefore, her family was wealthy, living in an upper-class town in Birmingham, something which Lily often detested. Many times, as far as she could remember, since she left school, her father had desperately tried to find her a soul mate.

He had arranged several meetings in the past, with men who Lily found distasteful. Inconsiderate, arrogant, flamboyant, unintelligent, hideous, no appreciation for the arts—Lily had seen it all. For the most part, many of the men who had lined up so hastily to see her were her father's co-worker's sons. Many were pure of heart; some Lily had even taken a liking to. But none, had she fallen in love with. None.

Another conflict that Lily had often argued with her parents about was her schooling. At a young age, Lily was forced into private school, learning along with other upperclassmen's children. She loved the arts—painting, reading, writing…anything; and was disappointed, at to find out that she wouldn't be continuing with school. Her parents believed that there would be no need to further her education in anyway. Her parents expected her to marry off to a wealthy land owner, and become a housewife, as Lily's mother did, providing loads of children, and a hot meal every night. They felt Lily needn't to have been troubled with things such as literature, and art. All that a woman, like herself needed to know was how to cook, sew, and tend to children.

This is what pulled at her heart. She didn't want this life. She didn't want to be told what she could do; whether or not she could paint a sunset. She didn't want to be told who or when she would marry, or fall in love; these things couldn't be rushed. She didn't want all the parties, where she would sit in the scorching sun in a tight dress; corset binding her lungs, as her hair was neatly pushed up. She wanted quite the opposite. To be independent. To be carefree. To lie near a lake's edge, in the arms of a lover, staring up at a starry sky.

A loud yell had awoken Lily from her thoughts. It was a deep voice, that of a man. She peered curiously outside the window, trying to view the young man who had made the noise. Once he came into view, Lily snorted. It was simply the likes of James Potter, who had been precariously thrown into the lake by his 'latest and greatest' 'buddy'. Right—buddy who could be spotted snogging in alleyways and under trees and such like rabid animals.

Lily suddenly became frustrated, watching James so happily wrap his soaking wet arms around the girl's neck, kissing her tenderly on the lips. Then, she felt a twinge of something in her stomach, which she couldn't figure out. Was it jealousy? She stepped away from the windowsill, throwing her long, auburn hair behind her shoulder. The thought of falling in love with James Potter was ridiculous. There was nothing she could possibly see in a man like him.

If there was one thing Lily Evans would make sure of—it was that she never fell for the likes of James Potter. Ever.

**A/N: So tell me what you think…I am going to at least try for 10-15 reviews for this chapter. But I shall not get my hopes up. :-)**


	2. James

Disclaimer: Okay. Bottom line is I do not own anything Harry Potter. JK Rowling does.

**A/N: Okay so I told you I was a fast updater! Lol! Big thanks to Lexi-H, femalepadfoot, and Stickman0, and ProngsieLovesLils for reviewing. Phew! Nowadays it seems so hard to get something as simple as a review. Thanks anyway for taking the time!**

**Ahh, and for anyone wondering what the time period is, I was going to make it more clear in later chapters, but it is currently October. Mr. Harrision sent Lily a letter explaining that they would get married t**_**his year**_** well he meant next year. I have a lot of things planned for this fanfiction. Oh okay, so someone asked me if the chapters would be longer, and they will. Both Lily AND James's narratives will be in each chapter. I just separated them for chapters one and two…so I could sort out their thoughts. **

**Well this chapter, I think I may have mentioned was going to be the same as Chapter 1, except in James's POV. Yes, in this chapter we will see why James was in the lake yard, and a little insight into his personal life. No…actually…a LOT of insight…It's a lot longer… I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as they did the first. And please review. You don't know—unless you are an author—how much reviews mean! Here's chapter 2!**

**I changed the title as well….**

_Searching For Love_

Chapter 2 – James

"Anna Bennet!" Seventeen year old James Potter shouted, grabbing the vibrant young woman's wrist before toppling backwards into the lake. A loud _plop_ signified that he had truly fallen in. James felt a cool rush surround him as the water came about, soaking his clothes, along with the hair that he had so desperately tried to flatten, yet again, and failed miserably.

He pulled himself out of the water, his jet black mop of hair already beginning to become frizzy on its ends. Laughing, and soaked in water he grabbed the young woman's wrist, pulling her against him. "What was that for?" asked James, a smile breaking out on his face. Anna entangled her hands in his sodden hair, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the lips. "Sorry." She said with a smug look on her face. "Couldn't resist myself."

James rolled his eyes, as Anna wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him yet again. "I love you, did you know that?" She whispered into James's ear. "Yeah I knew that..." He paused hesitantly, locking his hazel eyes with her chocolate, love you too." He said sheepishly, brushing his lips against her cheek. But he didn't. He never meant it when he said he was in love. Yes, he had longed for it, more than all the money in the world. He wanted a companion.

He never told anyone of this secret wish, not even his sister, Rose, whom since his parents death, they had been immensely close. His sister was a beautiful young woman. Like James, she shared many of his physical features; she had the same, long raven colored hair that never managed to stay put, the same adventurous and even a bit arrogant at times type personality, but at the same time, was loving and caring. In fact, the only thing that seemed to make the inseparable pair seem the utmost different James and Rose was their eye colors. Whilst James remained a carbon copy of his father, owning up to the same heartthrob looks, and hazel eyes, whilst Rose shared the one feature her mother managed to pass on. Her blue eyes.

They were a peculiar shade of blue, unlike any other. Two brilliant sapphires, speaking volumes, unveiling emotion of the tempestuous soul within her. She was a great younger sister to James, who was two years her senior. They looked out for one another, no matter what the situation. Two years ago, when James and Rose's parents died, of tuberculosis, or TB, as the doctors called it. The Potters were a middle class family. They didn't live on the street, nor did they own a large Birmingham estate. Obviously, a hospital would have been too much money for them to compensate with. Even the doctor agreed that no medicine could help them. A sentencing—for what should have been a long and fruitful life, to a tumultuous and painful death. Rose, especially, had been deeply affected by the event. She had been closer to her mother than any person James could take into account for.

There was a time, several days after Melinda and Harold Potter's deaths in which Rose would not speak to James whatsoever. She would stay locked up in her room the whole day, only emerging to use the water closet—even those times were rare and far apart. At night, James would often hear the stifled sobs coming in the general direction of her room.

Finally, the day arrived when James decided, although only fifteen, barely a man yet, to confront his sister. He remembered their conversation clear, her soft, pristine voice still ringing vividly throughout his head.

"_James?" She whispered, pulling up her head from the pillow, revealing a gaunt face, red puffy eyes protruding from the rest of the face. Embarrassedly, Rose began to rub her face, as if to prove that nothing was wrong, or had been in the past. Frowning, James ran a hand through his tousled hair—something he always did when he was nervous, and sat down beside Rose._

"_Look—I know you miss dad and mum—Rose…but…" Rose's lower lip quivered, as she muttered something about a lie. Awkwardly, James stroked her sister's hair—something that he usually didn't do, looking at their past together. As children, they bickered about everything, toys, attention, sometimes even for the sake of bickering. But times had changed. Things were different now. They couldn't have afforded bickering anymore than they already did._

"_She lied to me." Rose said, her voice louder this time, brushing her messy raven hair out of her eyes. "Mum…she lied to me."_

_A look of incomprehension dawned across James's face. "What do you mean?"_

"_Mum lied to me." said Rose bluntly, continuing this time, averting his eyes. She couldn't look at James without being reminded of her parents' deaths. This wasn't supposed to have happened. She was thirteen, coming of age. Who was going to tell her right from wrong? Who was going to walk her down the aisle at her wedding? No one. She had no one, except for a brother who didn't know right from wrong if it smacked him head on in the face. "She told me she was fine…all the coughing…and the blood…I didn't know…didn't…I…" Tears welled up again in her sapphire eyes before burying her head in James's chest, sobbing,_

_Instinctively, James wrapped his arms around Rose, his shirt stifling her sobs. "I'm she didn't……mean it……I'm sure she wouldn't have wanted you get this upset." Rose pulled away, folding her arms in indignation, a horrid grimace crossing her face. "How could you say that?" She shrieked, pushing James away yet again. "I wouldn't have been this upset in the first place, had she told me something was wrong.!"_

_James frowned. He was never the best when it came to this sort of thing. When it came to girls—charming was no problem. He managed to wrap each and everyone around his finger. In this situation, he was at a loss for words. _

Finally, emotions got the best of him. His parents were truly gone. The people who had cared and nurtured him for so long had disappeared off the face of the earth, never to bequeath their presences again. An unfamiliar pricking sensation burned the backs of his eyes, as he felt something warm trickle down his face. He was crying,

_Rose looked up at her brother, noticing this. She stopped crying, peering at James in the most curious manner. She had never seen her brother cry, only when they were younger. He wasn't the insensitive rock she always thought him to be._

"_Oh James…" She whispered wrapping her arms around his strong, toned body. "I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry…" He smiled sadly at his sister, kissing her softly on the head. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." For a while, neither of them spoke, arms wrapped around each other, with the occasional sound of a bird tweeting, or the screams of a happy child playing near the lake._

_After a quarter of an hour past, she looked up again, her eyes shining with something different. Something that James hadn't seen for a long time. Hope. "James?" She said softly, picking at the loose strings of her nightdress._

"_Hmmmm?" _

"_Can you make me a promise?" asked Rose, genuinely, staring into his brother's hazel eyes, a new question formed into her head. _

"_Yes…anything…What is it?" He asked, locking eyes as he comfortingly rubbed her back. Rose looked down for a moment slightly embarrassed that she was asking her brother to do this for her. The same brother whom she had stomped on his foot for taking possession of her dolls and stuffed animals. The same brother who spat profanities and bickered about nonsensical issues. And yet, he was the same brother who sat here now, comforting her in a time of need. He was the same brother who had finally showed that he wasn't an immature jerk._

"_Promise me that you won't lie to me…don't lie to me like mother and father did." James said nothing, as he stared into his sister's eyes. In those eyes contained everything; the sadness, the anger, the feeling of betrayal, all clouding the exuberant soul within her. She finally trusted him; something that he never would have thought to happen.  
_

"_Of course. I promise." He said, an authentic smile breaking out on his face, taking Rose into his arms once again. _

The next few years were some of the happiest that James had shared with anyone. Rose and he often talked, about their feeling; about their days…they had become closer than ever. James kept his promise of course. Not even once had a lie left the lips of James Potter; that is…when he spoke with Rose.

But outside the comforts of his home, he lied every time, in each of his courtships. Each one claimed to love him—and he could not return the love. And every time, he managed to break each and every girl's hearts, not purposely, in a sense. Girls lined up on either side of the lake to meet him, every afternoon, under the same beech tree, where he sat, staring out at the lake taking in its serenity.

And it was a large lake. It sat in the center of the town, separating the classes. On the east side, one could spot the life of Birmingham's society; mansions of unbelievable magnitudes. On the west side, far from the east obviously were the peasants. Poorer than poor, living on the streets, or in small huts. Then on the North side, there was the middle class, where James and his sister lived.

It was a cozy town, made up of small Victorian homes each having a unique style of its own, representing the people within them. Some had vibrant flowers decoratively covering the house. Others were cozy, with rocking chairs on the front porch, where elderly women would sit knitting a sweater for the latest addition to their families. James loved this town, more than anything he could imagine.

Love. How was it that everything he did always brought him back to that one thing? Love. Call it oppressing, but he was on a search. James wanted that one person to whom he could take into his embrace, give a kiss so passionate that words couldn't describe the love he had been feeling in that moment. He longed for a person that he could sit at the lakes edge at nighttime, talking on ends about everything and nothing. Someone he could say, "I love you" to, and mean the words leaving his lips.

"James?" Anne asked, raising a hand up to his cheek. "Are you alright? You look ill."

"What? Oh, yeah…I don't feel that well no…I don't want to get you sick…I'll come by tomorrow, okay?" That wasn't a lie, suddenly. He felt nauseous. He didn't want to hurt anymore people. Including Anne. She was a lovely girl. There was no reason to break her heart.

"Alright, darling." She said softly, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, James." He raised an arm in farewell, and then slowly dropped it as she walked towards town. James sighed, taking shelter under the beech tree near the lake's edge. It was his favorite spot. Although it was far from home (almost colliding into the east side) he sat here, whenever he needed to sort out his thoughts, or when he took to reading.

He closed his eyes, letting the warm October breeze blow in his face. It was night; his favorite time of day, when all the problems in the world seemed to fade into black. He rubbed his temples opening his eyes. It was then he spotted someone staring over him. A pair of enchantingly stunning emerald green eyes, staring back into his. He had seen her before, sitting in the same spot he was at this moment, deeply interested in her drawings. He had always wanted to approach the girl and talk to him, learn more about her…but she always walked away before he got the opportunity to say something.

He smiled from his spot, knowing his smile would show through despite it was dark. Her face flushed as she smiled feebly, and she then looked away slightly unpleased with herself. James looked back at the lake with a jump in the pit of his stomach. He had never felt such a leap in his stomach after one meeting.

If there was one thing James Potter knew he would make sure of—it was that he met that woman.

**A/N: Yeah so this is a lot longer than the first chapter, partially, because I summed Lily's life up in so many words…and also because this has a lot of relevance to what shall occur later on. Please Review! XOXO**


	3. Facts of Life

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Period. End of story. The characters, setting, and brilliant plotline: all of it belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers! I appreciate all of your opinions dearly, and along with your reviews, if someone has any constructive criticisms, I would be more than willing to take them! Okay, well besides that, not much more to say than to enjoy. I'm introducing another character this chapter.**

**This chapter is a little bit longer than the other two, so I hope that it satisfies everyone!**

**Also, I need help thinking of a good title, seeing as my current one isn't that great. Any ideas? PM me! Whoever thinks up the best title, will have the next chapter dedicated to them.**

Searching for Love

Chapter 3- Facts of Life

Moonlight shimmered peacefully on the dark lake, reflecting a white orb in the center of the lake. It was a scene, which had often calmed James in his times of sadness. A scene so stunning that would make the most insensitive person's defenses to crumble. Here, was one of the only places, besides home, that James could be himself.

'_Who was she?' _

The question played endlessly throughout his head; almost like a broken record that never ceased to quit playing. He was mesmerized, by those sparkling emerald eyes. Eyes that he was yet to recognize. He gazed up at the window again; the woman was back, staring at him with the same intensity. This time, she blushed, harder than previously, walking away from the table. She looked surprised, to find herself staring at a man of his class. Although slightly disappointed, James never let it get to his head. It was the distasteful look he usually received from the upper class women.

But she stood out from the rest. Everything about her; they way she carried herself, her smile, her eyes—full of wonder and emotion—something hard to find in a person, a woman of all people. He needed to stop. He couldn't continue breaking hearts. It wasn't fair. He enjoyed each and every moment of all of their company, but couldn't fall in love—with any of them, no matter how hard he tried.

Why did it have to be so hard? He had watched innumerable amounts of people, many whom he had known; marry someone who they had loved dearly. He looked on, coldheartedly as couples strolled down the streets, fingers laced together, whispering, 'I love you', without any sign of remorse of regret, unlike James. His face sunk into a frown as he ran a hand through his jet black hair, still sodden from being plunged beneath the lake's surface.

"You know, mate, if you sit around here moping too much, you're going to drown yourself in the lake one of these days…." James slowly turned his head, looking into the amused face of Sirius Orion Black, his best friend. He was handsome, far more than James could ever fathom of being in his lifetime. He had dark brown hair, smoothly hanging above his shoulder in seductive waves. His grey eyes sparkled with adventure and excitement. He was young, as was James, a subtle amount of stubble on his face. Overall, he was handsome.

Being handsome was not one of the only things Sirius was famous for. He, more so than James was a heart breaker—and always will be. This heart breaking was different. It was not, as James usually found himself doing, was getting too deep into a relationship for his own good, then saying, 'I love you', without meaning it. Oh, no. This was quite different. Sirius was known for saying, 'I love you' simply to bed multiple women. This didn't make him a horrible person, seeing that many men their age were this way. Sirius's philosophy was this, 'Drink and eat and women all around……and worry about everything else later."

Someone who didn't truly know Sirius would think that he was a pig. James knew otherwise. He knew Sirius all the way back from childhood. He was arrogant, just as James was, as he was intelligent, kindly, thoughtful and witty as well. There was more to him than a gorgeous face, and commitment issues. Sirius was there for James during the time of his parents' deaths Sirius was the one who managed to bring him up out of the hardest times of his life.

He made some mistakes. Well—he made a lot of mistakes…but he also did a lot of great things as well. James wasn't perfect either. He made his fair share of mischief along the way as well, something that his teacher's unending complains were about. Placing thumbtacks on the teacher's chairs, along with other accounts of unhanded homework, while doing brilliantly on exams. The school teachers were dumbfounded, while James and Sirius were admonished severely.

As far back as the age of six, James could faintly remember the sniggers and grins across the classroom as he sat; a smile plastered across his face, in the stool in the far corner of the room, dunce cap sitting comfortably atop his head. Punishment was never something he took seriously. Until his parents died. James stopped taking things for granted once that happened. He had begun to realize things he had never put much thought on previously. Time was a precious thing. If it was meant to be wasted with pranks and amusing gags, then everyone would be doing the same. At the age of fifteen, although not fully a man, James came to the decision that it was time to grow up.

Sirius, although reluctantly, eventually agreed that it was in both their best interests. Of course, they still joked, and played an occasional prank on Mr. Johnson, the elderly man who sat on his porch, talking in his sleep. But death changed him, and never again did either of them look at life the same way. Harold Potter was a father figure towards Sirius; he had lost his father at the young age of four. This brought James and Sirius closer together, managing to make light in every situation.

Now, Sirius looked at his friend's face. He looked the same as always, jet black hair sticking up in the back, same lanky body, although extremely toned. Mentally—emotionally…something was different about him. He was tired, and even looked a bit ill. "James?" He said, alerting to the fact that James had not, as he usually did laughed at one of Sirius's lighthearted jokes. "You alright, mate?"

James looked down again, sullenly picking up a flat rock, tossing it into the water. "Who's she?" He asked, the words that had been threatening to leave his lips for the past hour finally doing so, already beginning to feel the weight lift of his chest. He nodded gently towards the mansion where moments ago, a young woman, beautiful beyond words stood, blushing furiously.

Sirius followed his gaze, back to the window, where a candle, although dimly lit, was still faintly glowing. "Lily Evans?" He grinned, doing his very best to suppress a snort. "You actually fancy Lily Evans?" He shook his head, folding his arms. Although it was still dark outside, James could see his friend's actions very clearly. "I dunno anymore…" began James….looking out into the moon-lit lake. "I don't want to hurt anyone….but mate…." His hazel eyes widened, beaming. "She…"

"Yes, James…we know…she's gorgeous, she's amazing, and she's seems like she could be 'the one'." Sirius continued in a bored tone, waving his hand. James obviously, disagreed with his friend's statement, slowly shaking his head, deep in thought. "She seems different, mate…more different than anyone I've ever met before." Sirius grinned again, staring at James in disbelief.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, laughing. "Maybe the fact that she has her daddy's gold backing her up all the way to China makes her just a _little_ bit different than all those other girls." His smile quickly faded into a frown when he realized that James was serious about this.

"James…you and Lily Evans…" He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "It's not happening. The chances of someone like her, falling in love with someone like you, are slim to none." But the look of wonder and excitement did not fade from James's face, in face Sirius was almost positive he wasn't even listening anymore.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm off, mate. Mum's probably going bloody mad by now." James nodded, waving his farewell, almost in a daze. Once he was gone, he leaned back into the tree, languidly letting one leg graze over the water's edge. Perhaps Sirius, for once in his life, was right about something. They were in two different classes. For all James knew, she could have been married. Lily could have been married.

Curiously, he drifted his eyes back to the dimly lit window, where the once again, the woman stood, this time a timid smile appearing slowly on her face. James returned the smile, but before getting to see her reaction, she pulled in the drapes, putting herself out of James's view. Slowly he stood up, walking towards his and Rose's home.

It was the remnants of what seemed like a happy home. The marigolds that once lined the front porch now wasted away with the woman who took care of them. The house's color never regained the glossy sheen it withheld during the time that all of the Potters had been together last. The inside was clean—but could never be as spotless during the time that Melinda Potter took care of it. Nothing was the same.

"Rose?" called James, as he walked through the door, beginning to shiver slightly, from the lack of body heat. "Where are you?"

"Bloody hell, James!" She exclaimed, a petite girl with long raven hair appearing in the doorway. "Where the hell were you?" Rose made her way to James, who had already begun shaking the water out of his hair, landing in large droplets on the ground. "Oi! Take this!" She smiled, throwing James a washcloth to dry himself off. "So who threw you in the lake?" She asked, her blue eyes shining with amusement. "Or were you trying to impress someone by…"

"Shut it!" he said fiercely, hiding a smirk, before muttering something along the lines of being tossed in. His eyes lit up at the idea of this next question. "Do you know Lily Evans?" He searched his sister's eyes hungrily, hoping that she had some unbeknownst connection to her. This was not the case. Her reaction, strangely, was almost exactly like Sirius's. She snorted, smacking a hand to her forehead. "Lily Evans, James? _Lily effing Evans_? You have to be the thickest seventeen year old I have ever met."

She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair, a habit she had picked up from her older brother. "Sorry to say it, but you have a better chance with her than you do of me carving an ice sculpture with my bare teeth and the proceeding to decorate it with candies and throwing it into the lake. Unless you think I would do that…then you would be…"

"Okay, okay I get it." James said bluntly in reaction to Rose's giggles. She came over to her brother embracing him. Something had been bothering him lately; she couldn't put her finger on what though. She let go of the embrace, her brother's body tense, unlike how it usually was. "You alright, James?" she asked softly, comfortingly rubbing his back. "You don't seem it…" She turned away for a moment coughing deeply, before turning back to James, who looked annoyed, in a sense.

"Are you okay?" he countered, taking note of Rose's cough.

"Yeah…just a cold….I'm fine." she said coughing again. "Look, James…my point is that you really need to stop doing this."

"Stop doing this?" he asked incredulously, beginning to lose his temper. "Stop doing what, Rose? I can't stop it….I don't like it. I hate doing this to all these lovely people. But I don't love them….I can't love them. How did Romeo and Juliet fall in love, despite their feuding families? They didn't care about their families…they loved each other…and it…it just …"

"Happened." Rose said firmly, finished his sentence. She smiled sadly, knowing that what he wanted more than anything in the world was a constant in his life—someone that loved him—more than a sister ever could. "Its going to work out alright James, okay?"

James rolled his eyes, punching her jokingly in the arm. "If I needed a therapist, I would have gotten one myself." He smiled at her, "But thanks for the advice, _Rosie_."

"James!" she shrieked, tackling him onto the armchair behind him. "Don't…ever…call…me…that….again." James grinned, pushing Rose off of him as he stood up, wiping the nonexistent dust off his pants. He stood in the door way of his bedroom, where Rose stood opposite him.

"I won't ever call you that again, _Rosie_." he said evenly, shutting the door in her face, smiling.

* * *

Lily watched James Potter, the arrogant boy; slowly dismiss his girlfriend, a sad look coming across his face. His charming, handsome, face. _No. _She told herself firmly. James Potter was not handsome. He was uglier than a toad—that's right. She couldn't bring herself to ever think that _he_ could ever be charming. Or handsome for that matter. 

But something seemed different about him. All the times that James had come to that spot—her spot, by the lake, he seemed joyful, usually laughing with his friend, the just as equally unhandsome Sirius Black. Lily knew of their reputations, she heard the servants speak of them throughout the house. James Potter and Sirius Black; the infamous duo known for heart breaking and pranks. From the day she overheard that piece of that information, Lily knew that she wouldn't associate herself with such people.

She couldn't. Her class wouldn't allow it, even if she wanted to. She was the only daughter to Richard Tyler Evans, a wealthy land owner in Birmingham. Being the only daughter, Lily was to inherit the family fortune in one year's time, at the age of eighteen. Her father made it very clear that associating with 'those types of people' would lose her the inheritance in a second.

There was something about James Potter that made Lily—even if it was for a miniscule moment, that he wasn't as awful as he seemed. His eyes. She had seen them from a distance, from the window where she sat. They were a peculiar shade of hazel, unlike any other she had seen. They glint gold when he was joyous or happy. They flashed when he was furious or angry. But when he was upset, his face completely fell. Sadness aged him, even if it lasted for a moment. It gave him an elderly appearance, just as he looked right now.

The sadness he appeared to be feeling give the impression that he was feeling as horrible as he was two years ago, where he would spend most of his time at the lake, staring into its aqua depths. Lily could sit for hours watching, feeling his pain. She would remind herself that he was only a middle-class urchin, and wanted nothing to do with him.

She took solace, in her times of confusion or grief to sit by the lake as well. She had never witnessed another man do something of that sort. It just seemed—uncharacteristic for men to feel. They cared about themselves, food, and bedding as many women as possible. James tended to act this way…at times…while at others he was quiet…even pleasant looking.

How could she know what James was like? She had never even met him! Who was she to say that he had a lovely disposition whilst she hadn't ever heard the sound of his voice? What accusations could she make when she wasn't even sure who he was, what he was like? She peered again, noticing that his friend, Sirius Black had joined the group. James's face still did not change. It was still…the same…still ashen and sickly looking.

She couldn't meet him. These were the facts of life. A peasant would never be able to fall in love with a wealthy land owner's daughter. The mere idea was ridiculous. _Why would it matter? I am not falling for him either way. _It wouldn't work—she would be frowned upon. Her parents, who she tried her dearest to please, despite her behaviors, would look down on her even more so. It would never happen. _Stop dreaming. _She pushed the phantasmagorical thought far from her mind, focusing back on the scene outside.

After a while, James and Sirius stood up. James looked at Lily and smiled, Lily finding that she is returning the smile without thinking. She blushed profusely. _How could I be blushing? He's a peasant!_ She slowly, even a bit reluctantly, closed the crème colored curtains in front of her. She walked towards her bedside, preparing to blow out the candle and sleep when the urge came back. _Just one more look. _

She peered slowly from the curtains at the pair of men walking back towards their homes. James's stature, for the very fist time was slumped, almost defeated, whilst Sirius held his head high, walking briskly beside his friend. James turned around; looking back at the lake to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His hazel eyes. He didn't see her this time, but as Lily walked towards her bedside, blowing out the candle, snuggling under the warm covers, something came to mind.

She had looked at James Potter, that last time, without any guilt.


	4. Meeting Eye to Eye

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any aspect of it. J.K. Rowling does. I don't own Jane Eyre or Edward Rochester; they are belonging to the lovely author, Charlotte Bronte.

**A/N: Despite the fact that my last chapter got a mere three reviews, I shall press onward. And to think that having my story posted in the Story of the Day forum would get me more reviews! Lol—it brought my hits from 319 to 321. For those of you who are reading this, I present to you, Chapter 4 of Searching for Love.**

**I am sincerely sorry about the wait for this chapter. I can promise that for now on, the chapters will be much much much longer than they currently are! As of September 5****th****, I shall be back in school. retches I still will update—of course I will still update**

**PS: Thank you Lexie-H for the lovely idea for a title. I have decided though, that the story title relates to something later on, so I have decided to keep it. But since she was the only one who thought up an idea, I shall dedicate this chapter to the lovely Reviewer and Writer, Lexie-H**

Searching For Love

Chapter 4- Meeting Eye to Eye

"James!" screamed Rose, banging on her brother's door, the following day. Her long Raven hair was pinned up into a bun, some stray hanging in the front. "Get the bloody hell out of bed! Do you have to sleep until bloody twelve o'clock every day! You're going to be late for that job!" She rolled her eyes, before pulling a pin out of her hair, picking the lock, something that she had become very good at doing.

Before she had gotten the chance to finish opening the lock, she coughed heavily again into the palm of her hand. She looked up to find James, looking heavily disheveled standing over her with a mildly concerned expression on his face. "Alright, Rosie?" He asked jokingly, although his voice kept a concern within it. She scowled. "If I wasn't feeling so sick, then I would punch you in the face." He ignored this comment, placing a hand on her forehead. "Sure you're going to make it without me today? You feel a bit warm."

This time, it was Rose who rolled her eyes, standing on the tips of her toes to affectionately ruffle James's hair; something that supposedly, only 'he' could do it. "James—if I wasn't fine I would tell you—alright? It's just a bloody cold. Now go—before he really _does _kick you out this time!" She shouted, suppressing a grin. She knew as well as James did that Remy wasn't going to fire James. His real name was Remus Lupin; one of James's—as well as Rose's closest friends.

"Right…_Remy _is going to fire me." he said, turning back into his room, digging through his bureau for something to wear. Rose followed, blushing slightly at her brother's last comment. Rose was good friends with the young man whose father ran a delivery service of handcrafted swords and pistols. Remus, who had known James fairly well from school, had offered James a job there. Graciously, he took this job, very much in need of the money.

Anyway, Rose knew this young man better than James did, only because she had been dating him. Being the older brother, James didn't approve—but he didn't have much say over what his fifteen year old sister did either way. And besides, James found it immensely amusing to watch her blush at the mere mention of his name. "Shove it, James." she said rolling her eyes, as she and James began to walk towards the door.

"Where do you think _you're _going?" he asked, turning around with his hand still on the doorknob. Rose shrugged with a sly grin on her face. "Out." James snorted. "You think you're going out? You must be crazy. You are sick! Besides…where are you going?"

"Out, James!" she said furiously, her face becoming more flushed than it already was. "Since when is that your bloody business?! I'm going to do what I want, because I'm fifteen…just because you have ego issues, running around thinking you own this town—I can go out when I please, whether you want me to or not!" She folded her arms defiantly, breathing heavily. Rose was a lovely girl, with a fine disposition--honestly, although at times, her temper seemed to flare out of control. A majority of the time would be an understatement. James didn't mind it much, for he always knew she would be back later with an apology—sometimes sooner than others.

"Sorry." she mumbled almost immediately. "I have to go somewhere, okay?" She stared into his hazel eyes desperately, more vulnerable than they had been in years. "I'll explain everything later." She added quickly, before pushing through the door, kissing a very confused James on the cheek, setting off hurriedly to where she was meant to go. A heavy feeling of guilt took place of the anger in her stomach. She knew that eventually—that she would be forced to tell James—and Remus for that matter. When that day came, neither will be in high spirits. Not at all.

James watched, perplexed as Rose slowly left the home, raven hair piled up high in a bun, bobbing as she walked. An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach as he began to walk towards town. What had Rose been so carefully hiding from him? Did it have to do with Remus? _No. _He told himself firmly. _Remus is one of my best mates. He would tell me if something was wrong with Rose…wouldn't he?  
_

He tried to push his worries to the back of his mind. It was hard, all the same. Rose meant everything to him. If something bad happened to her—well, let's just say that James would not be in a good state of mind. Finally, James arrived at the quaint blacksmith shop in which he worked. Of course, James knew naught a things about the art of blacksmithing. That was Remus's job. The only thing that James did was navigate his way around upper-class Birmingham, making deliveries.

"Hello, mate!" Remus said cheerily, placing a large velveteen case on the counter. "How are you?"

James grinned heartily at his friend, who managed to always stay in fine spirits no matter what. "I've had better…how about you?"

Remus ran a hand through his light brown hair, a habit that he as well picked up from James. "Well….alright…I'll tell you but you can't tell Rose I said anything about this to you, alright?" His amber eyes reflected worry and concern. Could this mean that something truly was wrong with Rose?

"What happened?" asked James, becoming more concerned as time went on, leaning over the counter to listen in. Remus's voice had suddenly become decibels quieter—never a good sign. "Tell me."

"Okay…well…we were out the other day and she seemed really distant, you know?" James nodded slowly, his mind racing light-years faster than his head had been nodding. "And so I asked her what was wrong…and well…she got really defensive…and started coughing again—nasty bout of flu she has. And she just left." He shook his head bemused. "And the strangest part of it all—is that the next day, she came back, acting like nothing was wrong."

"Yeah…she's been the same with me. She said she had to go somewhere…but I suppose I'll find out soon enough, right?" he asked nervously, running a hand through his hair. Remus laughed.

"You do that too much. Now…here." He handed James the same velveteen package he had placed on the counter moments ago. "This is the only one I have for you today, James. So, you'll be off early if you can do this quick." He grinned, knowing very well that James 'took off' much more than he would be allowed had his friend owned the business. "Take this to erm…hang on…" He picked up a piece of parchment, obviously covered in names and addresses. "Mr. Richard Tyler Evans…the address is…"

"Its alright." he said quickly, taking the package in his strong arms, beginning to walk towards the door. "I already know where it is." James's heart began pounding madly in his chest at the thought. It had been one week since he had last seen her. One week since he had stared into her stunningly attractive emerald eyes, watching her look back into his. He was finally going to meet Lily, even if it were indirectly, face to face. Briskly beginning to strode towards the mansion, the one he had sat a mere hundred feet away from nearly every day, an excitement began swelling in his chest.

It was a large estate, every blade of grass primly cut, every flower planted in rows of bursting color. Every window was sparkling clean, not a fingerprint in sight. It was an utterly breathtaking sight. Sighing deeply—James knew that he would never be a part of this society—nor could he ever be a part of Lily—even if he wanted to be with her. Class would never allow it. Stepping up to the door, nervous for a plethora of reasons, he knocked, hoping for the best.

* * *

"Can you tell me what these are?" Richard Tyler Evans asked his daughter, angrily flipping through the pages of what seemed to be a sketchbook. A sketchbook. It was a large disappointment to think that his only daughter, whom he was so eager to marry off to a fine family, would be wasting her time with silly drawings. Lily on the other hand felt quite the opposite.

She angrily flushed, her cheeks burning a scarlet almost as vivid as her hair. _How dare he? _She thought angrily. This was one of the many things that her father would never understand. Uncharted territory, as the explorers called it. Her art was the one thing that kept her mind in check. The one thing that would cause Lily to veer her mind away from the life she was being forced to live. The one that she had no control over.

"They are called drawings, father." Lily said evenly, her emerald eyes darting between her father's eyes, burning with fury, and the sketchbook, which he had been so furiously flipping its delicate pages. Then, without warning, he tossed the entire book into the crackling fire, glowing orange before crumbling to ash along with the rest of its remains. Her hand clapped swiftly over her mouth. She had been close to completing that journal, each page with a different sketch of the things which mattered most; her mother and father, talking from a distance. The setting sun, using pastels to accentuate its brilliant shades of rubies, oranges, and yellows, with violet streaks upon its top—had been one of her personal favorites. "Father…how could you?" she asked softly, her emerald eyes sparkling with tears.

Richard's expression, however, remained stiff, becoming more and more disappointed with his daughter as time went on. "Lillian…this behavior…I expect you not to act this way tonight when we visit the Morrison's for dinner. A loud knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Richard stopped talking calmly walking towards the door. Lily on the other hand, felt that there was unfinished business to be discussed. "I'm not going! I won't! I…" her voice faltered as she noticed the young man who had walked through the door.

James Potter.

The voice, which had been shrilly talking back to her father just moments ago faded into a silent gasp. She rubbed her green eyes furiously, wondering if he would have noticed that she had been crying. Lily brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, before unconsciously undoing the bun that her mother had tediously worked to create, her crimson hair falling in luxurious waves at her shoulders as she did so.

"Ah, Mr. Potter." exclaimed Richard, his face showing no signs of the altercation that had broken out between him and his daughter, just moments ago. His piercingly cold eyes ran the length of James's body, eyeing his tattered, but well kept clothing with distaste. "What has Mr. Lupin brought me? Ah…" Richard took the decorative sword from its velveteen case. He withdrew it like a knight in battle, grinning at it, like a child receiving a well thought out Christmas gift.

Richard Evans enjoyed swords. Of course, he knew how to use them, he had been well taught during his younger days in the navy. But now, in old age, he collected swords, a pastime of his, on a private shelf in his study—which no one was allowed to touch. "Very well, very well made indeed." James nodded quickly, although he looked as though something else was on his mind.

Lily's stomach leapt into her throat as James peered over her father's shoulder to gaze into her eyes. It was a strange sensation, staring at him, a sensation she had not felt with anyone else. Perhaps it was nerves, or anger—at her father for tossing her book—she couldn't put her finger on it. The intensity of his stare increased—as if he were intrigued by something about her. However, Lily knew very well there was nothing that intriguing about her. She had a freckled face, which most women would frown upon. Her long, vivid locks of scarlet hair stood out enough so that someone could recognize her miles away, and emerald eyes that never held the sparkle she wanted.

Often, Lily thought she had much in common with Jane Eyre, her favorite fictional character. She was a strong woman, with a love for art—a passion for love. A simple girl, who fell in love with a man of complexity, with many issues. But Lily knew—when that man came into Lily's life, he would sweep her off her feet, which she _would _be willing to wait around the bush for him to show up. Even if it took all eternity, simply to be loved in return—she would wait.

But why was she thinking of this now? Why did, James Potter, of all the bloody people in this universe, make her think of love, and _passion_? She was not falling for him. It was as simple as that. She blushed, realizing that not only had James been staring at her, but her father as well, following James's gaze. She blushed, walking away from the two men. As she collected her skirts, rushing up the stairs, she could see out of the corner of her eye a small smile twitching on the handsome lines of his face.

She feigned being ill that night to dismiss herself from going to the Morrison's dinner affair. It would most likely be dull, her mother gossiping animatedly with Kate Morrison about the tramp in the village whom had an affair with the squire's son. Then her father would discuss even more dull topics, such as politics and weaponry. Lily preferred pretending she was ill, when she would sneak out and sit by the lake, staring serenely at the moon, dreaming.

That was supposed to be her plan. In fact, it had been a rather good plan. She left her house precisely ten minutes after her parent's departure, and planned on returning ten minutes before their arrival. It was foolproof. Notebook clutched tightly in one arm and gathering up her skirts of a pale mint, she walked towards her spot under the beech tree. Of course, it was occupied, by none other than James Potter.

* * *

Something was wrong with Rose. No matter how hard James tried, she seemed to be stuck in a fit of sullenness. Slowly, but surely, she was becoming a shadow of herself. She was no longer the giggling, bubbly fifteen year old girl that laughed at nearly everything. She frowned most of the time, and her smiles were short, only flitting across her face for a second. Her forehead was warm, although she continually insisted that nothing was wrong, and her cough persisted, becoming more and more bronchial as time went on.

Tonight especially, Rose had been horrible. It was the first time since they had been ten and eight years old that Rose said the words, "Go away," to James. And in all honesty, it hurt. It hurt to hear something like that from someone you loved, especially when you were only trying to help. So James left. That's why he came here. He always came here when he was hurting—when he needed somewhere to sort out his thoughts. He stared at his reflection in the water, his handsome, charming face, which managed to woo countless women—none knowing of battle ravaging within him.

"You are in my seat." A distant voice broke his thoughts. It was her. The beautiful, redheaded woman whose eyes met James's earlier today. Those emerald eyes—they made my pulse race. _It couldn't be love, could it?_ How would he know? He's never been in love. In the actuality of the situation could be thought as humorous. There James was, his mind racing, thinking of such abstract thoughts such as love, whilst all Lily Evans seemed to care about was the fact that her seat was occupied.

"Excuse me?" he asked, his tone covered in sugar, slightly amused at her turbulent temper.

"I said…" she spoke again with growing impatience, her wildly long auburn hairs curling near her elbow. "_You _are _sitting _in my seat, James Potter." She said frustration apparent in her tone of voice. James grinned, running a hand through his hair.

"Does this seat say, Lily Evans on it?" he asked, innocently, pretending to search the grass, as if a name were hidden beneath its layers.

"How do you know my name?" she asks coolly, narrowing her eyes. _How _does _he know my name?_ She asks herself, frowning at the handsome man in front of her.

"I could ask you the same question." he repeats, obviously content with his answer. Sighing, Lily took a seat next to him, pulling out a sketchpad. Just because James Potter wouldn't move his lazy behind was no reason for her to dismiss her drawings. After a quarter of an hour of silence, James peered again over her shoulder, intrigued by her artwork.

"You like to draw?" he asked, his hazel eyes glimmering with a golden sparkle. She nodded dumbly, her eyes locked with his, entranced. _Stop staring. You'll look like an idiot. Too late. _She tells herself firmly to stop staring, although she is beginning to realize that quite the opposite is happening. An obvious attraction was forming between them. She notices the worn copy of the book, Oliver Twist, sitting near his lap. She smiles sheepishly, surprised to find a man who actually enjoyed literature, rather than politics and guns. It was refreshing.

"You enjoy reading?" she asked, taking the book in his hands. "This is one of my favorite books." James smiles. It is a beautiful smile—different from other people's smiles. There are certain types of smiles, which can tell loads about a certain person. A deceiving person's smile would be concealed—as if they were trying to hide an unbeknownst secret. A lover's smile is seductive—only the partner knows what is on that person's mind, because in most cases, it isn't for anyone else to know, besides that person's beau. A friend's smile is genuine—showing the person that you can trust them. James's smile—through Lily's eyes was different.

He had secrets. Beneath his glimmering hazel eyes there was a person—a person with a past full of misery—she could see it in his face—the way he spoke. She had lost track of the time when James gently told her of the time. Her parents would be back from the Morrison's any minute. "Wait…James?" she said, spinning around to meet his hazel eyes one last time.

"Yes?" his breathing was slow and steady, although Lily was almost positive that his heartbeat was pounding almost as hard as hers—if that was possible.

"Will I see you again?" she asked slowly, gazing hungrily into his eyes, as if she would never see them again. Then he smiled, that smile—with a rainbow of emotions—the kind that she had been beginning to feel for James. He nodded, bidding Lily goodbye with a smile, leaving her weak in the knees—something that a man had never done.

In all honesty, Lily was surprised that she had managed to open the door, let alone walking back to her chamber.

**

* * *

**


	5. Secrets, Lies, and Reveries

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any elements of it. J. K. Rowling does.

**A/N: Despite the fact that I only had a few reviews for my last chapter, I thank all the people who actually reviewed. Reviews mean so much to me, as well as they do to any author, I'm sure you all know and just to clear up a few things; you will find out what is wrong with Rose, so don't worry! **

**I'm really sorry I took so long to update to update, as I have warned; school was beginning to take its toll. I will try to update faster, I promise! I hope this chapter suffices in the meantime. I really made this chapter long, in hopes that you all will review!**

Searching For Love

  
Chapter 5- Secrets, Lies, and Reveries

"James?" Anna Bennet asked curiously, grasping her beau's hand tightly, stepping slightly in front of him to touch his face. "Are you alright? This is the seventh time…"

"Yes!" He snapped, retracting his hand, rubbing his temples. "You've asked me that seven times! I'm fine…I just…" His voice dropped quieter, noticing that he had been attracting attention from the other people in the town square. "I've had things on my mind." he finished, choosing his words carefully to not upset Anna. He cupped her face with his calloused hands, kissing her softly on the forehead.

Indeed, things had been on his mind lately. To start, he had been worried sick about Rose, who had been fine until recently, becoming evasive about her outings, despite the fact that she was running a fever. Even if he was older, James knew that he couldn't control her. She was fifteen. James could remember a time not so long ago that he himself had been fifteen, and hated being told what to do. Even if it _was _for his own sake.

Then there was Lily Evans. It had been a few days since he had last seen her, that night by the lake, since he had looked into her eyes; heard her voice. Perhaps it was the moonlight, or the way the breeze blew through her hair, but that night she had been so…so beautiful. She was troubled by something…whether it was something at home, or something within her, James was not sure. He could not be sure. But he wanted to meet with her again—to look into her eyes—to hear the sound of her voice.

"James!" Anna said sharply, breaking him from his thoughts again. "What are you thinking about?" This time, she stepped in front of his moving body to stop him from walking any further. She clasped his hands tightly, staring him directly in the eyes. "Tell me the truth." He grimaced. This was exactly what he feared. Now it came on full force, confronting James to talk about that single subject that always managed to drive people away. Then she said it. She spoke the forbidden words.

"James…" she whispered quietly, drawing his body closer to hers. "You know I love you. You can tell me anything." She brushed her knuckles against his smooth cheek, smiling softly as his body tightened. "But that's the thing!" He yelled frustrated, pulling away from her embrace. "I don't love you! I can't love you! Call it a disease….I…just can't love." He ran a hand through his hair, shuddering at the mere thought of it. His hazel eyes looked back into her eyes, which were sparkling with tears.

"Oh god." He whispered, taking her hands again. This situation was beginning to become all-too familiar. "Anna…no I didn't mean it that…"

"I understand James." She said sharply, this time the one who retracted her hand, eyes brimming with tears.

"No—no you don't…just let me--"

"Explain?" she shook her head sadly, not wanting to have to look into the eyes of James Potter. They had been right—everyone. He didn't care about anyone. And to think that after all this time, Anna was almost positive that all those other women were seeking revenge. But they were right—James Potter was just like his friends. A conceited, egotistical backstabber. "I thought that they were all wrong—those other women. They told me that you were horrible, that you would just do the same to me as you did to them. I didn't listen." Anna looked down, folding her arms across her chest in an attempt to constrain herself.

"I should have listened. I thought you loved about me, James." Tears rolled down her smooth cheeks. She inclined her head upwards, placing a hand on James's face, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. "Good bye, James Potter." she whispered, before slowly walking away.

* * *

It was an all-too familiar situation; James overreacting to the word, 'love', the woman being hurt—not understanding him at all, there were tears, as always, and of course, the undeniable feeling of letting someone down. However, she didn't slap James, as every other one had. She didn't scowl, or yell, or even put up an argument—that had never happened before. But one thing was missing—the guilt. Where was it? Would it come? For once, James was almost positive that it wasn't coming back. He had someone, more superior than a gorgeous date, greater than the best kiss someone could ever receive. He had a friend. He had Lily.

Lily kneeled down on the marble floor of her bedroom chambers, searching beneath her bed for a piece of parchment. She had not drawn anything in the past week. _The oppressing git._ She thought ruefully, as she straightened her skirts, starting to open drawers in a search for something to draw on. Why did he want her to fit in so badly? Could he just accept her for who she was? Finally, nearly a quarter of an hour later, she had found a medium-large sheet. Picking up her oil pastels that she had spent her _own _money to buy, Lily stretched in her satin armchair, the warm fire causing her scarlet locks to glow orange.

Lily traced her hand across the smooth parchment warm beneath her fingers. She leaned back into the cushion, pensive about what her next drawling should have been about. Something of importance. It had to be something that she was passionate about. Another sunset? _No. _Something that would be challenge; hard to convey in words about how she felt about it. Besides, it would have been too hard create a sunset whilst the sun has already set. Something that had been imprinted in her mind this past week, reappearing every half hour or so. Lily smiled softly to herself, something coming to mind.

She began to stroke her pastel across the parchment, smooth, darkened lines appearing before her eyes. She used different strokes for different types of lines. She used different shades of color to show contrast in the way his eyes shimmered in the light, specks of gold and green within them. Finally, it was complete. Unconsciously, Lily brushed her finger against his illustrational cheek, the peach color rubbing against her skin. She smiled. He looked even more beautiful on paper. James Potter.

She carefully folded up the drawing, carefully tucking it in her drawer. She would never show it to him, nor did she have any intention of doing so in the first place. She looked up into the mirror as she backed away from the bureau, finding a light blush beginning to creep into her face. Why was she acting this strangely? Was it mere coincidence that she had felt so compelled to draw the face of a man she had only met yesterday? Could be that she was—

"Ms. Evans?" Samantha Rollins, one of the kindly servants that cleaned about the estate, interrupting Lily's thoughts. She had long chestnut hair, tumbling far beneath her shoulders. Of course, like Lily though, she was forced to keep it up into a tight bun at all times. Lily had seen her hair down once, spying on the young woman as she tidied herself up in the powder room. Samantha was not much older than Lily, perhaps in her mid to late twenties.

"Yes?" she asked brightly, smiling warmly at the woman, emerald eyes twinkling with innocence. As much as Samantha adored Lily's company, if she had any idea that Lily was still drawing, she would be forced to report back to Mr. Evans, which she honestly didn't want to do. "Supper is being served, miss, and your mother and father would love you to join them." She curtsied, bowing her head low, before walking out of the room.

Lily sighed, placing a hand on her stomach. On one hand, she was very hungry. But on the other, she was not in the mood to face either of her parents. Especially her father, after everything that had occurred between them. There was a certain bitterness, which Lily was reluctant to relinquish. Her drawings were held of a high importance, and the way that he had simply burned them with a swift movement, feeling no regret. She slowly walked downstairs, not looking forward to that confrontation, if it ever came. Her father, especially.

Descending from the marble staircase leading into the dining room, Lily took her usual seat, in between her mother and father, sitting on opposite ends of the table. The centerpiece on the table was a vase, filled with beads, sparkling in the lamp light, green and gold reflections speckling the table. They reminded her vaguely of James's eyes, the way they seemed to glimmer in the light. She stared blankly at the vase, smiling daftly as the maids began to serve various dishes consisting of something Lily hadn't been paying the slightest attention to.

"Lillian?" Someone had finally taken a notice to the fact that Lily was inattentive to the world around her, eyes glazed over, deep in thought. It was Janice Evans, Lily's mother. She had beautiful crimson hair, the same crimson as Lily's; although she kept it pinned up, seemingly ashamed of it. Lily could never seem to grasp why her mother would be ashamed of it. She was beautiful, her face still young and pure. It appeared, as it did with everyone else in this society, that she was uptight and firm. The once soft lines of her face now stern. Even when she smiled, there was a trace of unhappiness in it. "Lillian!" She interjected again, peering at her daughter with a questioning look.

She had never managed to understand her daughter. She had tried; well of course she had tried--loads of times. Taking her shopping for beautiful dresses—which she had vehemently complained about being 'uncomfortable' and 'tight'. She had preferred cotton dresses, because they were 'easier to walk in'. Never—in all her years had she met someone quite like Lillian. She was independent and carefree, enjoying having her own choices to make. She detested Janice and Richard for choosing Jonathan Harrison for her to marry.

Again, she had failed to understand her daughter's reasoning. He was handsome, kindly, and cared passionately about Lillian. Perhaps she _had _failed as a mother, as Mrs. Morrison had so kindly pointed out. With a sharp intake of breath, she returned her attention to her daughter, staring at the centerpiece, her supper untouched. "Hmmm….yes?" murmured Lily, slightly dazed.

"Are you feeling better?" Janice asked a smile painting over her darkened features.

"Oh…erm…" A light blush crept up into Lily's face, as she stared down at her plate. "Yes. I feel much better."

Janice clapped her hands together happily, casting a wide smile at her husband, stony faced throughout the meal. "That's lovely, Lillian…Jonathan has wanted to see you, and it would be just horrible if you were ill! You two have wedding plans to make, no?" she couldn't help but allow a girlish giggle to escape her lips. This had been the one thing about her daughter that she _could _control.

The color in Lily's face quickly drained into a pallid shade of white. Jonathan Harrison? She had completely forgotten about him, seeing as her mind had been so caught up in another dark-haired mystery man lately. "Mr. Harrison? Oh…that will be lovely, mum." she faked a short smile, before standing up. "Mother, father?" she asked suddenly, tucking her chair in behind her plate of untouched food. "May I be excused? I would like to get started on my wedding plans."

"Would you like some help, dear?" Janice asked, obviously interested, oblivious to her lie. Even Richard looked up for a moment, before returning to his food. Lily smiled broadly, her insides boiling. "No thank you, mum. I've got it."

Lily waited until she was out of her mother's earshot, before stomping her feet angrily back to her room. She shut the door behind her, sitting on the bed, before burying her head in her hands. She was marrying Jonathan Harrison. Why did that sound so terribly wrong? Mrs. Lily Harrison. She couldn't marry him. She didn't love him. She could never love him, even if she _had _tried.

* * *

Rose curled her back into the warm cushion of the armchair, fire warming up her skin as she delved deeper into a novel. She coughed lightly. Placing a hand over her mouth, she stared up at the clock. It was nearly ten o'clock. James should have been home by now. She needed to talk to him…How else could she tell him the truth? How could she tell him that she—?

A loud knocking broke Rose from her thoughts. She jumped out of the armchair, nervous. It was James. Running a hand through her silky black hair, she slowly opened the door. "James?" she whispered, slowly opening the door.

"Last time I checked, my name wasn't James, Rose." he grinned at Rose, immediately pulling her into an embrace. Rose relaxed, melting into his arms. She inhaled deeply, becoming entrance of his strong smell of musk. She glided her hands up and down his back, pulling him against her. "I've missed you, Remus." she said softly, his liquid honey eyes bright. He tightened his grasp around her, kissing Rose gently on the head.

"I've missed you too, love." He whispered back, leaning down to kiss Rose gently on the lips. She smiled into the kiss, running a hand through his wavy, light brown hair. A light switch turned on in her mind, reminding her of the severe consequences her actions might bring. "Oh god, Remus." she whispered softly, burying her head in his chest, eyes welling up in tears.

His eyebrows furrowed, taking Rose in his arms once again. "Come on; let's go sit down for a moment." Rose nodded slowly, taking his warm hand, as they sat onto the sofa. She was going to tell him what was wrong. Something had been wrong—of course something was wrong. In the past few weeks, she had become a shadow of herself, barely managing a smile. But before the words could escape her lips, something else did. A deep, bronchial cough broke out of her lips, a bloody phlegm following, the crimson of the bloody shining bright in her hand. Regretfully, Rose reached in the pocket of her dress, taking out a handkerchief, blood spotted. She wiped the blood away, tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

"God, Rose." he whispered over the crackle of the fire. "Why didn't you tell me?" She placed the handkerchief aside, wrapping her arms around his strong chest, beginning to sob.

"I don't know…Remus…I'm so…scared…I can't tell James." He didn't say anything. He stroked her hair gently, pulling away every so often to wipe away her tears with the tip of his thumb. So _this _was why Rose had been so secretive? All those secret trips to the doctor? She didn't want to scare James. It was that simple. She had seen how much her parent's death had affected James. The way his face would cringe at the sight of the blood. The way he cried at the funeral. Rose didn't want any of that.

"Rose…love…you need to tell him. You can't keep him in the dark. He has a right to know. He's worried about you." He smiled softly, brushing the hair from her face. She sniffed, tears still rolling down her pallid cheeks.

"I'll try." she said softly, placing a hand on his cheek, kissing him on the cheek gently. "For you."

"I love you, Remus." she whispered again, placing a hand on his toned chest. "So much." He smiled. "I love you too, Rose."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: If any reviews are given I would appreciate it greatly! Thank you so much!**


	6. Broken

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any aspect of it. Period. End of story.

**A/N: I thank all of my reviewers for the lovely, supportive review! I appreciate each and every single review I receive! But look—as much as I appreciate the reviews—20 people have me on their story alert list. And on average, only half of them review. Sad, huh? **

**Things are going to get interesting in this chapter. I'd love for some feedback as usual. If anyone has any flames, suggestions, compliments—anything, feel free to share them via PM or review! (Preferably the latter) **

**Also, I have been working on several oneshots in between my chapters, for my regular readers of this story—I would love to hear everyone's opinion! Most of my oneshots are under reviewed! PS Frayed Misfit: Your dedicated one shot is my next project. Expect it within the next week or two, or whenever you get back onto your internet!**

Searching For Love

Chapter 6- Broken

"Remus…" Rose whispered fearfully, staring into the young man's amber eyes. "I'm scared—more for James than I am for myself. You know how he became when Mum and Dad died." she shook her head, without blinking this time. If she dared to blink, the tears that had been ever-so-threatening would fall, and she would show vulnerability to Remus.

Remus remained silent for a moment, a gut wrenching hiss from the fire emitting into the air. He could remember that time, nearly two years ago—after Rose's parents had died. James had become a shadow of himself—barely smiling, barely eating, and barely speaking. But _nothing _was nearly as horrific as Rose had been during that time. She had become reclusive, never jabbering on about nonsensical issues as she usually did. It scared him. And now? To see James go through that very experience again? Over a sister that he loved so dearly?

"I…he…don't worry Rose." His voice cracked as he spoke, a tear rolling down his cheek. He couldn't let Rose die. The one good thing that had ever happened to him. She couldn't just die. It wouldn't be fair. "Just make sure you tell James." He leaned down, kissing her cheek. He was just about to kiss her crimson lips, when he realized that he needed to avoid contact—as much as possible. He needed to stay well for Rose.

"Can you tell him for me?" she said softly through droopy eyes. "I….I…don't know if I can." She curled up tighter against his chest, finally letting the tears fall freely from her face.

"Okay." whispered Remus, not wanting to upset her more by disagreeing. Before he knew it, she had fallen asleep, tucked under the embrace of his strong arms. Once Remus was positive that she was asleep, he let out a heavy sigh, staring down sorrowfully at Rose.

There was no cure. He knew that. Rose knew that. James knew that as well. There were ways to help the symptoms—to make them less painful—less sufferable. But it was inevitable. Rose's time--whether or not it be one, two, or several hundred days, would come, all because of this disease. She was going to die.

A light creaking noise made Remus realize that James had come home. Foolishly wiping away his tears, he feigned a grin towards James, who looked wistful himself. "Hello, mate." said Remus quietly, the flicker of the firelight unable to hide the pain in his face.

"Did she tell you what was wrong?" asked James concernedly, unconsciously tracing a hand along her spine as she slept.

"Yes."

James tore his gaze away from Rose for that split second to stare into his mate's eyes. "What is it?" Could it be something bad? After everything that had happened tonight—with Anna, he wasn't prepared for yet another blow. Even if he didn't love Anna—it still hurt him deep down to know that he had broken yet another woman's heart. But it couldn't possibly be as bad as he had always suspected things to be. It seemed silly to think for a second that Rose, his Rose could be…

"She's dying, James." He spoke softly, defeated. Remus looked away from the fire, to blink back tears. He wouldn't allow James to see him so vulnerable—so broken inside. It was better this way. If he said nothing, and simply held it in—both would end up feeling worse than they had before. If that was possible.

* * *

The remaining color drained from James's face. This didn't make any sense. Rose? Dying? The two words didn't fit together—they couldn't fit together. Rose wasn't dying. How could she be dying? Silently, Remus pulled something from Rose's pocket, holding it carefully through the tips of his fingers, cautious not to touch the blood. 

Before he knew it, James felt the memories coming back to him, rushing over like the water from a bursting dam. The same things he had felt a couple of years back--before his mother and father died.

_A fifteen year old James kneeled at the side of his mother's bed, staring at her concernedly. "Mum?" He said softly, passing her the steaming tea that she had asked for. "Are you going to be alright?"_

Melinda Potter smiled gently at her son, ruffling his untidy hair affectionately. "Yes, darling—" She paused for a moment to cough deeply, covering her mouth as she did so. When she pulled her hand away, it was shimmering with blood. The same bright crimson of a rose—or a cherry. She shook her head sadly at the mess, picking up a hand cloth sitting on her bedside, splotched with blood. 

_He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, looking like he was about to argue the point further, then quickly shut it. Melinda caught this, smiling broadly at her son. Her frown faded though, as James pulled up a stool to her bedside, leaning back languidly as he ran a hand through his black hair. "James…you don't have to stay here. I don't want you to watch me…" Die. That had been the word she was looking for. But could she tell him? The son that she cared so deeply about? There were so many things—the fact that Harold hadn't been out fishing with his friend—he had been visiting the doctor for himself. He was suffering as well._

"_Watch you what?" asked James with a snort. "Drink tea? I don't mind, mum, really. Besides—Sirius—__**his**__ mum's having a cow because he was out until two the morning yesterday." Melinda laughed. "Did he really?"_

"Alright—whatever you say mum…but all that blood—it can't be…"

"_Okay…I'm going. Bye!" He shut the door behind him, slumping down against its frame, burying his head in his hands. The image of the blood, shining crimson in the palm of his mother's hand still stood out. She was lying. He wasn't as thick of a fifteen year old as people had suspected him to be. His mother was going to die. The image of the blood, shimmering plainly in the palm of her hand—stood out in his mind._

"She…can't be…no…" whispered James, his eyes traveling from Rose's sleeping form to the bloody handkerchief. Remus shook his head sadly.

James sat down in the armchair across from Remus, burying his head in his hands. His hands began to shake, along with the rest of the body. James wasn't sure which emotion had been taking over the most. Could it be anger—at him for not recognizing the obvious symptoms sooner? Or was it regret—not getting to know Rose better now that she was going to—

He swallowed a lump forming in his throat. She _wasn't _going to die. He wouldn't let her die. "Remus…" He whispered softly, his hazel eyes meeting his amber for the first time. "Can I just…erm…be alone with her?" The whole situation seemed unfathomable. The one thing that had been stable in his unstable life was crossing to the dark side. The unstable side.

Remus nodded almost immediately, placing Rose's head gently against the cushion of the couch. "I hope everything works out, James." Both boys stood up, embracing each other tightly. Remus could feel James's body restraining from breaking down completely. He squeezed his friend's shoulder tightly as he left the home, feeling emptier than he had in ages.

James kneeled down at his sister's side, staring blankly at her sleeping form. The idea that this—this disease was already beginning to rip up her insides—killing her slowly—just as he had with his mother and father. He stroked her face, tears beginning to form in his hazel eyes. His insides were beginning to break, like a china dish being smashed to the floor, shattering to millions of pieces. He kissed her warm forehead, covering her with a blanket, just in case.

He walked out the front door, closing the door softly behind him. He needed to clear his thoughts out. He needed to go the place he always went. The lake. The cool November breeze began to blow gently through his untidy hair. A shiver went down his spine as another icy breeze whipped his skin. It had gotten so cold—the warm, balmy days of October were over—moving into the chilly days of November. There definitely was an obvious distinction by now.

He leaned back against the bark of the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, beginning to truly soak in Remus's words.

"_She's dying, James."_

No. She couldn't be. Rose was stronger than that. He wasn't going to lose her to consumption. But as much as James wanted to fight it—as much as he wanted to say it wasn't so—it was inevitable. She wouldn't live with it. She would suffer the same fate as the rest of his family. She would die.

Finally, in that moment, everything seemed to be too much for him. He needed an escape—he didn't want to have to think about it. Not now, at the very least. Eyes blurring with tears, James pulled his shirt over his head, jumping into the icy cold lake. The last thing he could remember was a freezing sensation surrounding him, his body becoming numb.

* * *

"Are you bloody insane?" cried Lily, wrapping a warm jacket around James, who had begun to shiver violently as Lily pulled him out of the water. "What were you thinking?" She rubbed her bloodshot eyes. It was late—around eleven thirty in the evening. But Lily had found it impossible to sleep. Her mother had been insisting she work on plans for the wedding, seeing as Jonathan would be visiting tomorrow. But her plans had not gone far; she began to sketch miniature roses on the invitations. In other words—not that far. 

She was hoping to come out and find some tranquility—instead she found James Potter, apparently trying to drown himself in the bitter cold. A lovely trade off, no?

Of course she had been thinking about him often. He had been one of the only things on Lily's mind lately. But she had walls of defense—walls that she wasn't ready to let down—not just yet. She wanted to be able to confide in this boy—no matter who he was. They seemed so alike. But he needed to prove it. He needed to prove that he was more than a pretty face.

Her initial reaction to finding James, bobbing in the water, was horror. Was he _trying _to kill himself? She doubted it. He was so _happy_—so full of life…what could be wrong with him? She pulled him out of the water, realizing that he wasn't wearing a shirt. His lips were blue, predictably because of the fact that it was only fifty degrees out, the water probably at least ten degrees less. Peeling off her jacket, Lily placed it around his torso.

She also couldn't help but notice his body. His torso muscles were toned. She traced her warm fingers over it, not realizing that he was still watching. "Sorry." she murmured, wrapping the jacket tightly around him. He was still shivering though. It would take time for that to cease.

"W…w…what are you…d..d..doing here?" James asked through gritted teeth, trying to control his incessant shivering. Lily sighed, pushing her papers behind her. It was for another day. She definitely wasn't in the mood to begin explaining _that _aspect of her life. _I'll tell him another time. _She decided, staring into his hazel eyes—which she had not noticed until now—were brimming with tears.

"James?" she asked distantly, hesitantly leaning forward to brush some tears from his face. "What happened?" A sinking feeling in the gut of her stomach told her a something. It definitely was not good. She felt the cold radiating off his body. Unable to resist the urge but to blush at the closeness of their bodies she focused her attention to his eyes.

James shook his head, trembling over his words as he grudgingly began to speak. "I…I…c..can't…do this…" Lily softened her gaze, a hole beginning to drill into her heart. She barely knew this man, and yet, she found herself wanting to comfort him in any way possible. She didn't know why he was so upset, and yet—she found tears beginning to form in her eyes as well.

She did not feel inclined to ask him what was wrong. She enveloped James in her arms, running a hand through his hair as he finally broke down, sobbing into her shoulder. "Shh…." She whispered comfortingly into his ear, stroking his head. "Everything will be alright."

James pulled away, revealing a tearstained face. He had never cried in front of anyone before. Never showed emotion to anyone—not even his closest mates. With Lily though—everything seemed different. "I don't think it will." He said, his warm breath tingling Lily's neck. "But as long as you are here with me—I think it make things a little bit better. You seem to have that magic effect on me, Lily."

"Oh James." sighed Lily placidly into his neck, tightening her embrace. Warm tears of compassion slid down her cheeks. She was wrong in judging James. He was far more different than any other man she had ever met. He wasn't ashamed of feeling. In that moment, something more than a heart was broken. The closer Lily pulled James to her, the more she could feel her walls of defense breaking off, crumbling into nothingness. But the more these walls cracked—the more unease she felt about her future; with Jonathan and her parents as well.


	7. Compare and Contrast

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. How many times? I thought you all knew that J.K. Rowling did!

**A/N: I cannot thank everyone enough for all the great reviews I received for that last chapter! I'm in such a great mood this week so I'm going to start up on this next chapter. I hope everyone likes it! Its going to be extremely long though, so be warned!**

Searching For Love

Chapter 7- Compare and Contrast

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass of Lily's bedroom window, the sparkling sun blinding her vision. With a groan, Lily rolled over onto her side, crimson hair tumbling into her eyes. She didn't want to face today. Today—would be one of the longest days of her life to date. Jonathan Harrison—her husband to be, was coming to visit. Nothing truly exciting. Lily leaned against the windowsill, tucking a stay lock of hair behind her ears. She gazed longingly at the glittering lake, the morning sun glittering on the water.

Her emerald eyes traveled slowly towards the beech tree, where she had James had been sitting, mere hours ago. A slow feeling of melancholy overtook her as she realized how selfish she had been. How could she have been worrying about something as trivial as marriage when there were people like James, completely alone- his sister in danger of dying, his parents dead? He had confided to her; everything—holding nothing back…

"_James…" Lily whispered softly, becoming lost in his hazel eyes, filled with sadness. She cupped her warm hand over his, hoping that it would bring him comfort of some sort. "I can't help you unless you tell me what is wrong." It was true. For the past ten minutes, they sat in silence, Lily embracing him, her head sitting gently on his shoulder, listening to his shallow breathing. One hand remained on the small of his back, gently moving in circles, gliding over goose bumps over his bare skin, in attempts to subside his sharp intakes of the frigid night air. Her mother had done the same thing for her whenever she had nightmares. Only this time, the nightmares were real._

_Slowly but surely, he tilted his head, ever so slightly, staring deeply into Lily's eyes. "It doesn't matter." he whispered, shaking his head, wriggling out her embrace. "Besides—you have better places to be than here, don't you?" he whispered bitterly, not meaning it. His shivers had subsided slightly, although his lips remained a faint purplish color. Every so often, the wind would blow, causing a chill running down his spine. Lily could sense it though, and instantaneously would tighten her embrace, as though she knew he had gotten colder._

"_I'm not going anywhere." she whispered back harshly, placing a hand on his clammy cheek. "Should we go somewhere warmer?" She asked quietly, beginning to feel cold herself._

"_Do you really need to--?"_

"_Yes!" she said a little too loudly, a pink color filling her cheeks. Grateful for the moonlight, she leaned closer once again brushing off her skirts. "Tell me everything." James looked suspicious. "Why are you doing this?" he asked indifferently. Lily Evans was only the woman of higher class that had smiled at him—let alone comforting him and wanting to talk to him—trying to figure out what was wrong. This was something he dreamed about—something that Sirius would taunt him about—never something that would actually happen._

_Lily honestly wasn't sure. She could have been doing other things. She could have been in her warm bed, near a fire—or as her mother had wanted her to, planning a wedding. But she didn't want to. She wanted to stay here with James. Something within her had been saying it was the right thing to do. "Because I want to." She said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. She could feel the heat rushing into his cheek into the palm of her hand…but Lily said nothing. It was all she could do._

_Slowly but surely, James began to tell Lily. He spoke in a monotone—not at all the chipper lad he usually was. He spoke wistfully of his parent's deaths, of his sister, Rose. Lily couldn't help but notice the ghost of a smile that always appeared across his lips when her name was mentioned. He refused to make eye contact either—staring out at the orb-like reflection of the moon on the lake's surface. "She's dying." he whispered. "Just like my mum and dad did—she's going as well." James shuddered, running a hand through his hair. "She means so much to me…I care about her more than I care about—well…myself."_

James had not needed to say anymore. The tears that had been building up in Lily's eyes the past few minutes released, as she wrapped her arms around his bare chest, her boiling hot tears falling onto his skin—goose bumps erupting. "Oh James…I didn't know…I shouldn't have…" How could she have been so selfish? She had two parents, and money, and men who waited on her hand and foot. And James? Whose entire family was close to dying? How could she despise her life when there were people, like James, so much more unfortunate than her?

For the first time, James had tilted his head ever so slightly, staring into Lily's emerald eyes, shimmering with tears. "Don't cry." He said tenderly, caressing her wet face with his hand, his eyes still locked with hers. "You look so much more beautiful when you don't." Lily looked up into his eyes, a lovable smile dawning from her face.   


_As Lily left James that night, closing the door to her bedroom softly behind her—she could only think of one thing. How beautiful the color hazel suddenly was!_

Lily's eyes quickly traveled over the ground, hoping to find him sitting by the lake's edge, one leg languidly dangling over its surface. Hoping to see his messy ink-black hair—his hazel eyes. But he wasn't there.

But what was she doing? Honestly! If her mother knew how she had been spending her evenings, she knew she would be disappointed. The last thing that Lily wanted to do was upset her mother, no matter how much she tended to despise her antics, her mother meant the world to her. If she ever found out that she was spending all her time with someone like James…she wasn't sure what the consequences would be. She knew one thing: her mother would be immensely disappointed.

"Lillian!" Janice Evans called happily, twisting the knob to Lily's room. "I hope that you are getting ready! Jonathan will be here in an hour's time." Lily looked up at her mother, who had tried so desperately to change her appearance. She had used a form of henna to change her beautiful auburn hair to a bleak brunette. Janice had tried many times to convince Lily of doing the same, although her request was vehemently denied.

Lily's stomach sank. Her head immediately twisted to the side, casting a weary glance at the tree once more before drawing in the curtains. "Why are you closing the curtains, love?" Janice pondered. "It's a beautiful day outside!" Honestly, Janice had been extremely worried about her daughter. Over the period of a few months, she had grown farther away—perhaps farther than she already had been from the rest of the family. She constantly wanted to be out, staring that lake—and looking around—as if she were waiting for someone.

"I'm not sure…" Lily began, becoming distant again, as the reflective sparkle of gold on her mother's necklace reminded her of the sparkle in a _certain _someone's eyes… "When did you say Jonathan was going to be here?" Lily asked distantly, strolling towards the handcrafted armoire, absentmindedly opening the doors searching for a dress.

"Oh, no…you won't need any of those!" Janice exclaimed happily, tucking a curl of her chestnut locks behind her ear. "I had Samantha pick one up for you just yesterday! I left it…" she scurried across the room, picking up an extravagantly laced dress, with beads and trim hanging off of it. From behind her mother's back, she eyed the dress in distaste. It was going to be a tight fit. There was no way that small dress would fit the curves of her body without being _slightly _uncomfortable. "…right here! Here you are, love… I'll meet you downstairs, alright?" she smiled warmly, closing the door behind her.

Lily stared at the extravagant dress. With a heavy sigh, she peeled off her nightdress, beginning to dress up. It was a treacherous process—putting it on-- involving many different laces and ties. The corset was always a bugger—to this day; Lily couldn't manage to tie it herself. As normal, Samantha came in, binding the laces of the corsets tighter than they already had been. "You look wonderful, Lillian." Samantha gushed, as she pulled Lily's hair up into an elegant bun, curls hanging delicately from the side. "I'm sure young Jonathan will be very pleased with what he sees." She smiled again, barely containing the bottled up excitement.

"Thank you." she said softly, absentmindedly staring down at her hands…the very hands that had been clasping James Potter's the night before. His warm, gentle hands—although calloused and rough…they were comforting all the same. A light rapping at the door broke Lily from her thoughts. Both heads snapped up, staring as Janice reentered the room, a smile plastered across her face. "Lily, darling—come down. He's here."

Shock reverberated through Lily's body as she followed her mother into the foyer. To start—she knew she wasn't ready to do this. She wasn't ready to meet a man that she wasn't totally in love with. And secondly—it was the first time ever that Janice had called Lily by her first name. "I'm coming…" Lily whispered, following her mother down the many stairs leading to the foyer, careful not to trip on the train of her dress.

Lily's breath hitched in her throat when she realized who Jonathan was. He was more than handsome than she had thought. In fact—he was beautiful. His eyes were smoldering topaz, and his smile—oh how beautiful it was when he smiled, as it stretched across his face. Lily smiled politely in return as a blush crept into her cheeks. She had been staring for too long. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harrison." she said shyly, all confidence brushing away from her in one sweep. She curtsied, bowing her head low.

"Really…" he continued with a smile. "I'd much rather you call me Jonathan." Lily blushed. Janice looked giddy to the point of eruption. "I think I'll leave the pair of you together. Jonathan, darling--make sure Lillian is back by dusk."

"I will. Enjoy your day Madame Evans." Jonathan grinned brilliantly once more, slipping Lily's hand into his own. It was certainly different than most hands. It was smooth—much softer than Lily could ever dream her hands would be. It was a nice feeling and yet—it didn't feel right. Nothing did. She spoke to Jonathan. He was a fine man. He couldn't keep his eyes off of Lily—to begin with—not to mention the way he complimented nearly everything she did. Overall…she was having a nice time. A nicer time than she had expected. The hours passed quickly, over a meal and a few laughs as well.

"Did you have a nice time?" Jonathan asked as he and Lily stood rather awkwardly near her doorstep.

"Oh yes!" Lily gushed, her eyes lighting up. "I had a nice time as well." In one quick movement, Jonathan leaned forward, placing a hand on Lily's waist, kissing her gently on the cheek. The heat rushed to her face, but once again—she said nothing. "Well…goodbye." she said with a smile as he hitched his horse and galloped away.

He _was _nice, just as her mother had wanted him to be. He was charming, and handsome. He made Lily laugh, and could hold an intelligent conversation.

But he wasn't the same.

His smile wasn't the same—nor were his mannerisms. He couldn't make her laugh the way he did, nor did his hands feel the same when they touched against hers. The spark wasn't there—there was a connection…but it wasn't instant.

It was with James.


	8. Struggles of the Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters and ideas within it. J.K. Rowling does.

**A/N: Hello there everyone! Here is chapter 8! I'm really enjoying writing this story, and have some interesting things planned ahead…so bear with the long updates. I would love some feedback though, so if you ever get the chance, feel free to drop in a review! Of the 23 people on my story alert list, only 9-10 of them review.**

Searching For Love

Chapter 8- Struggles of the Heart

Morning came a lot harder for James than it had in a long time. Although the sunlight streamed brightly into the foggy glass windows of his room—the urge to get up and begin the day simply did not come. He couldn't wake up and face the world—knowing that Rose was dying. Knowing that now—her future was uncertain—her life would be on the line—was too much for him to bear.

But she had been scared to tell him—scared of the consequences of her actions. But with good reason. Now that James knew—he was almost positive that things would be different. He would no longer spend time worrying about his own life—but rather Rose's. He would pay more attention to detail, cursing himself for bypassing Rose's symptoms as a cold. If she died now—James knew he would be forced to take sole responsibility.

And with that same reasoning, James felt hope. The things he felt last night, as Lily wrapped herself around him—the feeling of her warm lips pressing gently against his bare shoulder. Even still, he could hear her voice, echoing through the walls of his mind. Her eyes, sparkling like sunlight on stained glass, a brilliant emerald green that even the boldest of emeralds could not express properly. He wanted to see her again—but how soon? Lily Evans was wealthy, she had other men—men who probably were more handsome than James could fathom. They were pompous jerks. But would Lily see that? He could only hope.

Rubbing his temples in agony at the thought of what must be done. Slowly, James rolled out of bed, staring into the vanity mirror, in a desperate attempt to flatten his jet black mop of hair. Of course, it never ceased to the intended, flying in all outward directions. _A lost cause. _He thought glumly to himself, walking out of the naturally messy bedroom—books strewn across the floor, clothes hanging off of chairs haphazardly. _Another lost cause._

James swore he would not do it—perhaps Rose needed time to be alone? But here he was, twisting the doorknob to her room, like some nosy little git. He needed to talk to her. That was final. "Rose?" he whispered softly into the silence of the room, hoping that she would be there. In one swift movement, Rose looked up. Her skin, which was usually clear of blemishes, was puffy and red—apparent signs that she had been crying. Her eyes, usually bright and happy—were now swimming with tears.

This put James in quite an awkward position. True, he knew Rose like the back of his hand, but from previous experiences, never found talking about feelings one of his best subjects. He could express them—but not talk about them. But here he was, being forced into a situation that he didn't feel particular comfort in. But he had to. He had to talk to Rose about this. "James?" she asked softly, staring into his hazel eyes a blank expression crossing her face. "You can come in—you know that, right?" mumbled Rose rather dejectedly, looking away.

"Oh." was all James could say, his hands folded awkwardly across his chest. Slowly, he walked across the room, taking a seat across from Rose on the soft lilac material of her bedspread. For a while, neither spoke, although the silence knew all too well, as though it could read their minds. There was nothing either could say to make the other feel any better. "Rose…" he started hesitantly, before Rose's eyes began to burn, something that happened when she felt strong emotion. Her bitter, harsh words cut him off.

"Look, James. If you just came here to comfort me, I don't really want to hear it." Her words burned across his heart like a fiery whip. Her expression was seething, and even if she didn't mean it, Rose needed to let out all the pent up emotion. "If you came here just to make me feel better, it doesn't matter. I'm going to die—just like"

"Like mum and dad did?" he asked, the blood in his head rushing to his face. "Sure, you'll die like they did, but you are nothing like them, Rose! I guess you didn't learn anything from them, did you? I guess they didn't mean anything to you. They mean just as much to you as…"

"I never said that!" Rose shrieked, her face contorting in anger. "Since when do you care about me? I don't need you to take care of me anyway." Rose shut her mouth, her face twisting as though she had swallowed a foul medicine.

"Fine then." James muttered sourly. "I WON'T!" With that, he walked to the door, slamming it behind him. His breathing was uneven as he changed and stormed over to Remus's shop. Once again, James had managed to muddle with something that was important to him. This time, his relationship with his sister. As James made his way down the twisting path, he couldn't help but take in his surroundings. It was fall, by far one of the most enjoyable seasons for him. The vibrant reds and oranges of the leaves were quite a sight to stare at, as the autumn breeze lightly blew them in miniature cyclones on the ground. But through its beauty, James could still hear the sickening crunches of the leaves beneath him, each crunch reminding him of the person that he had left behind, her life slowly coming to a halt.

* * *

There was a light tingling noise that had caused Remus to look up from his book. James had entered the store, his face contorting in pain. "Alright, James?" he asked blithely, although he knew very well he wasn't. Just the night before, he had discovered that the person that his very life depended on was now holding the same fate that his parents had—death.

He hadn't been doing so well himself either. Rose meant almost as much to him as she did to James. For a while, Rose was one of the only things that had kept him going. His brother barely was home anymore—and during those short periods, the visits weren't exactly what one could call, "warm." Anthony Lupin, his eldest brother, had a very tempestuous relationship with his parents. His father refused to tell why, and his mother simply sniffed whenever Remus brought it up—but whatever the reason—his visits always ended with an argument about 'Promises'.

But Rose had been there for him. Rose had been one of the only people that had he had shared any of this. In fact, she was the reason that he hadn't run away from home in the first place. He loved her—with everything he had to offer. Sometimes Remus doubted himself—he doubted whether or not she would really love him in return—seeing as he wasn't as handsome as the other men in their town. But she _had _seen him. She had chosen him—above everyone else. And now—well now she was dying.

He had seen it coming. The preceding weeks to this had been different. Rose hadn't been her usual self. She had become more reserved, more concerned about other people's doings than that damned cough. _If I had known…_Remus thought guiltily to himself, pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind. He needed to be strong for James. He didn't look that well either.

"Yeah. I'm alright, mate." James mumbled rather pitifully, running a hand through his hair—deep in thought. "Have you gotten any new deliveries for me to make?"

Remus smirked. "Actually yes. I've got a quite few. I gave them off to Johnny and Mason for the most part. But I left this one for you." James snapped out of his dreamy mood, to pay attention for the first time in the conversation to see what Remus was talking about. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

"Richard Evans seems to be collecting swords and a lot of very curious looking artifacts. It's a good thing you are one of the only people here that know how to get to the Evans's mansion." In that single moment, a flicker of a smile slid onto James's face. In spite of everything, Remus couldn't help but smile as James happily took the package into his possession, without any complaints for once.

* * *

Lily had been sitting soundly in the parlor, reading a book, when she had heard the doorbell rang. For once, she was home alone. Samantha had taken ill, and Lily's mother was out shopping for dresses. Richard was at work, leaving Lily alone to do whatever it was that she might have pleased to do. She jumped to her feet, trying to walk as casually as humanly possible to the front door. With a knowing smile, she opened the door, greeting the young man.

"Hello, James." She said softly, her eyes searching his. He looked different—she supposed it was because he wasn't nearly as upset as he was the night before. His hazel eyes seemed indifferent—no matter how hard he seemed to be trying to lighten his mood. On an impulse, she reached out towards his hand, warm and comforting as it usually was. She pulled lightly, James stepping onto the hard marble floors of her home.

"I really should go." he said softly, a pained look crossing his face. Lily knew that look. There was something that he wasn't telling her.

"James…" she began sadly, beginning to pull him back.

"Another time?" he asked tenderly, meeting Lily's emerald eyes once again. Unconsciously, he raised a hand to her face, tracing over her delicate features with his fingertips. He could feel her face blushing crimson beneath his. It was a signal that turned off in his mind, telling him that what he was doing wasn't right.

"But when?" asked Lily, her hand reaching up to her face to place a hand over James's. "When will I see you again?" Lily took the heavy package from James's arms placing it on the table in the entrance hall.

"Three nights from now…by the lake…where we always meet." The trace of a smile tugged at the handsome lines of James's worn face. "Okay?"

Okay? It was more than okay. It was more than Lily could handle. Knowing that she would see him again. Knowing that she would get to look into those eyes again—it was almost too much to think about. "Sounds wonderful. We can talk then, too, okay?" She knew the cause of his sadness. She had been the one holding him in her arms a few nights ago. No one else but her and James knew of that meeting. It would stay that way for a very long time. "I have to go." he mumbled, removing his hand from Lily's cheek. Instead of returning to his side though, the hand lingered on Lily's waist. Hesitantly at first, James leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lily, kissing her softly on the cheek. "Thank you for everything you did for me, Lily." he whispered, his warm breath lingering on Lily's neck. "I really hope this means that we will see each other more often. Won't it?"

"Won't it?" Lily repeated, still slightly dazed from the chaste kiss she had just received. "Of course it will. I always love seeing you James. You know that."

"I'll see you in a few days then." James said suddenly, holding his head a bit higher than it had been before. "Take care, Lily." he said with a smile, shutting the door to the Evans's door.

"Take care, James." Lily whispered back, knowing that he wouldn't have heard her either way, a hand still resting unconsciously on the spot where James had kissed Lily.


	9. Searching For Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the owner of that.

**A/N: I'm sorry this is so short. I've been so busy with school lately that I haven't really gotten the chance to update. :(**

**I'd love a review though. **

Searching For Love

Chapter 9- Searching For Love

The next three days passed with a growing air of tension between Rose and James. Neither spoke. The only form of greeting that ever passed between the two was a curt nod, or a faint smile. Things had changed. It was becoming increasingly difficult for James to talk to Rose—seeing how reluctant she had become. It was evening—the night that James had promised to meet Lily again.

In a way—it seemed to be all he looked forward to nowadays. He looked forward to seeing her bright smile—to hear her laugh—tinkling lightly like a bell. He looked forward to talking to her, and hearing her voice. But he couldn't go on not talking to Rose. He knew that what he was doing was wrong. James knew that she was going to die. And every day—every minute that he didn't spend talking to her was another minute ticking off her life. "Rose?" James asked the chestnut of her door. "Will you just open the door, Rose? I want to talk to you."

Reluctantly, the door swung open. It was Rose, her face sullen, and slightly thinner. Her eyes were sunken and not as bright. James's eyes bored into hers silently. No one needed to say anything. It was no more than a minute before she had her arms wrapped around James's torso, crying into his chest. "James—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… Oh god…you're right. Mum wouldn't have wanted me to act like this…like a…like…"

"Rose…it doesn't even matter now." James said somberly, stroking Rose's long hair, kissing it gently as she sobbed. "You're here. That's enough for me." he whispered, his voice slowly cracking under the pressure. They still loved each other…this showed it. They were both just very scared of the unknown, afraid of what would happen if the other died. As of now, an ominous cloud would hang over their heads until Rose became well, if that ever happened. Rose held James tightly against him, crying into his shoulder. It stayed like this for several minutes—until Rose maintained her composure, and tried to convince James that she was alright, and he could go off to wherever she was going.

"Just…no secrets from now on, okay?" he met her blue eyes, blotchy and swimming with tears. "You promise?"

"I promise." She said softly, cracking a light smile. "So where are you going anyway, James?" she asked slyly, meeting her brother's gaze.

"Too meet someone. If you stop being such a prat about it, then maybe I'll tell you later." He mumbled with a wry smile, pulling on his coat as he walked out the home, feeling slightly happier than he had coming in.

* * *

Lily quickly shrugged on a jacket, incessantly flipping her hair to make sure that it looked alright. Why she was trying to make such a good impression on James was still slightly a mystery to her, but she was keen on doing so all the same. She tiptoed down the stairs, being very wary not to awaken her mother or father. She was breaking so many rules to visit James, and she needed to make each moment count. She was going to do so, even if it killed her.

As she made her way down towards the lake, she could already spot his muscular form leaning against the tree, looking extremely pensive. When he had noticed Lily however, his face lit up into a brilliant smile. "Why, hello there…Ms. Evans." He grinned, patting the ground next to him for Lily to join him.

Lily obliged, still dazed from his brilliant smile. "How are you James?" she asked softly, already knowing the answer. He obviously wasn't doing very well. Rose was dying. He loved her so dearly, and Lily could tell just from the rings that had formed under his eyes. Lily moved closer, stroking his cheek with her thumb. She had grown so close to this man in the past few weeks, and couldn't help but feel something stronger for him, something that she couldn't put her finger on.

"I'm fine." he said softly, a light smile on his face, still distant. Within ten minutes, James had begun to return to his usual self, laughing and making jokes.

"Why do you always do that?" Lily asked blithely as James ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time that night.

"Do what?" he asked, slightly amused.

"Run your hand through your hair like you think you are Don Juan." she pressed, her eyes beaming at the sight. Even if she did enjoy taunting him, she found it rather adorable.

"Oh…run my hand through my hair? Well, you see…I only do it when I'm trying to impress someone." James flashed another brilliant smile, causing Lily to blush furiously. "Is it working?" he asked, meeting Lily emerald green eyes.

Lily retracted her hand from his, suddenly feeling used, like many of the other men that he parents had set upon her. She thought she had known James better than this. Wasn't he supposed to be different from everyone else here? James almost immediately detected the change in behavior and sat up. "Sorry. I was only joking with you. I didn't think that you would…" he stammered, suddenly becoming vulnerable.

Lily smiled. "Its alright…I forgive you." She cuddled closer to her friend, leaning her head against his shoulder, listening to his steady breathing. Lily couldn't help but notice how nice he smelled. Like cologne and wood and paper. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to become more and more obvious as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She rested her head on his chest, staring out at the lake, knowing that she had never been this comcfortable with anyone in her entire life.

"Now, why do you do that?" James whispered mockingly into Lily's ear, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck.

"Do what?" she asked, tilting her head towards him, staring into his hazel eyes.

"You always are staring out at the lake…as if you are looking for something…something that you can't find anywhere else." said James exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

"I do?" Lily asked him, her face becoming confused as he nodded once more. The more she thought about it, Lily had a feeling that she probably did stare out at the lake often. Even if it was unconsciously, she might have taken on the look of someone who was missing, or had missed something. She was missing a lot of things in her life. A hairbrush that had been missing since was five years old, her old blanket that her mother said she had grown out at the age of five, the letter from Jonathan that had 'accidentally' been thrown into the fire.

But those were all materialistic items. Lily knew she was missing things within herself as well. Many things, in which her friendship with James had repaired. Things which to this day, Lily could not find. But the one thing that Lily wanted to find…the thing she had been itching to find, that so many people before her had managed to find was love.

She was missing love. Not a parent's love or a friend's love. She was searching for a man's love. A lover's love. Someone that she could come home to and make passionate love, who would talk to her about whatever was on her mind. Someone that wouldn't spoil her silly like everyone else did, because they knew Lily well enough to know that she hated it when people bought her presents. Someone whose touch sent electricity running through the rest of her body. Someone like…like…well she was still working on that.

"I guess you're right, James." She whispered, touching his face gently, running a hand through his soft hair. "I am searching for something, aren't I?"

"Yes…" said James, his hand reaching up to cup over Lily's; still tracing his face. "You are."

Lily paused, leaning over to kiss James's temple tenderly, her lips lingering next to his ear before she whispered, "I think I know what I'm searching for. I'm searching for love."


	10. Proceeding the Confession

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any aspects of it. It belongs to JK Rowling.

**A/N: Well…okay for this chapter, I had been originally planning to take it in a totally different direction, but I must say that my fantastic reviewers have inspired me to write this next chapter the way I did. So without further a due, enjoy! I'd love some more reviews!**

Searching For Love

Chapter 10- Proceeding the Confession

James was certain that he could feel his heart thumping heavily against Lily's head, resting on his chest. He wanted to be able to lean down, kissing her rosy lips deeply—and hope that she would return the affection. But he couldn't. He was already breaking the rules by talking to Lily in the first place, let alone befriending her and wanting to kiss her.

There was so much about Lily that made her different than any other person he knew. She was intelligent, something that was hard to find in most women. Although James had known her for such a short period of time, he instantly felt connected to her, as though he could tell her anything. Besides, she had been there for him when he found out that Rose was…was…dying.

James sat up straighter in his seat as Lily confided that she was looking for love; something, which to be perfectly honest, James had been rather unlucky to find as well. That explained her dreamy antics on falling in love. And the fact that she always looks to Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet for romance references. She longed to fall in love…she sought after what James had want.

If only he could show her…

"What is it?" Lily asked softly, her finger tracing the outline of his cheek, her eyes disconcerting. "I…I…did not mean to…"

"It's nothing." James reassured her gently, taking her warm hand in his, squeezing it. "I promise. It's just…"

James trailed off, staring at the open lake, which Lily had been watching a few moments ago. An astonishingly strange sensation swooped over the majority of James's chest. It was something that he had never felt before and as he looked back into Lily's eyes, as solid and deep as a pool of sparkling emeralds. He finally realized what it was.

He was in love with her.

Why James couldn't figure out this from the start was still a mystery. He must have been in love with her for the longest time, because he had never felt anything quite like this with anyone before. Not even Anna. He loved everything about her—everything from the way her eyelids would scrunch together when she laughed, but maybe it was just him, knowing that he had made Lily laugh—or smile for that reason…

She was beautiful. God, she was beautiful. Her waist long crimson hair, for which James wasn't quite sure how she could bear to keep up all the time. He loved its smoothness, the way it felt beneath his fingers was indescribable. And her eyes. Her emerald eyes. So passionate, and at the same time, unsure and shy. Afraid to take that leap of faith. Just as he had been afraid. Perhaps Lily would understand.

Would class honestly make a difference? Couldn't they love each other in secret, even if class didn't allow it? It wouldn't make the difference…if they loved each other…

"James?" Lily asked again, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you alright? You look rather…"

"No…I'm fine." He replied calmly, placing a hand against Lily's cheek, heating almost immediately. "I just…I think I am in love with someone." he said softly, locking his gaze with Lily's who was now sitting in front of him, still very close.

"What is she like?" Lily questioned, her tone demanding, almost a little jealous, but nervous all the same.

"Well…" James continued, with just as much gusto as before. "She's beautiful…don't get me wrong…she has the most brilliant eyes…the kind you can just get lost in, you know?" She nodded, reddening as James took her hands, almost too enthusiastically. "And she is a wonderful person to talk to."

"Can she make you smile?" Lily asked softly. James grinned in response.

"All the time." His finger gently stroked Lily's knuckles as he spoke, a nervous habit that he had picked up over time. There was a short silence, where neither James nor Lily spoke. Until—that is…Lily cleared her throat, looking James in the eyes once more.

"Do you love her?" She spoke these words seriously, staring down James, almost pulling away from him slightly. _He was in love with someone else. _Why this seemed to bother her so much, Lily was not sure…but whatever the reason, she could feel each word—each syllable tugging at her heart, breaking it a little more each time he spoke of this mystery woman.

James looked away. Did he love Lily? Could he love, was more the question. This was the point in nearly everyone of James's relationships that he would be forced to sit down and evaluate. These words, so abstract and obsolete…loveThere was more to it than the word though. There was more to the word love than simply saying it to the person. You had to mean it. You had to feel it, running through your blood…..through your body. That word was associated with that one person, and that one person was associated with love. Nothing else.

And as of lately, all James seemed to think about anymore was loving Lily. And hoping that she would love him in return.

"Yes…she's all I think about anymore. So, I do love her. Very much so. But I don't know if she loves me in return." he whispered, cupping Lily's face in his hands.

"Who is she?" Lily asked, leaning forward, her forehead pressing gently against James's. "What is her name?"

James sighed, meeting Lily's gentle eyes, feeling nothing but the love he had longed for oh-so-very long. "Her name is Lily Evans. I'm in love with you."

Without notification, James pressed his lips against Lily's, the walls of tension that had built up, slowly diffusing as he deepened the kiss. At first, Lily was shocked, and she didn't move. But as she pulled herself closer to James, entangling her fingers in his shaggy dark hair, she knew. She knew very well.

She was in love with James.

Lily could feel her back press against the bark of the tree as James deepened their kiss, his tongue sliding inside her mouth, mingling with hers. The kiss lasted for several minutes longer, until they were both breathless. Lily sighed, resting her head against James chest, listening to the heavy pounding of his heart. Lily had become so overwhelmed by emotion in the past few minutes.

"Oh god, James…" she whispered, staring up into his hazel eyes, with the gold and green flecks that she had come to know and adore. "I love you too." Lily leaned forward again, pressing yet another kiss to his mouth. James couldn't help but smile at this. All the incessant worrying was for nothing.

There was nothing to be worried about. He had someone to love. He had Lily.

* * *

**A/N: I'm really really sorry about the short chapter you guys! I've just been so busy with school, I simply don't find time anymore. I can promise you this, next chapter will be extremely long. :)**

**But perhaps, if more of my people reviewed, then there would me some MEGA-inspiration going on...if you know what I mean. **


	11. Surfacing Secrets

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I have anything to do with it. That would be up to Mrs. J.K. Rowling

**A/N: I cannot thank everyone enough for all the supportive reviews I have been receiving! I noticed one thing though; that many of you seem to have your minds stuck on… (When will Lily tell James about Jonathan?) I would really love to answer…but as J.K. Rowling often says, 'Keep Reading!'…**

**And Lexie, I agree with what you were saying about the word notification being awkward. I can't agree with you more. I read it over, and it seemed too formal. Thanks for pointing that out. :) **

Searching For Love

Chapter 11- Surfacing Secrets

Hours passed, and neither Lily nor James felt the need to speak. Lily rested her head contentedly against James's chest, listening to the steady murmurs of his heart as he stroked her arm. Every so often, their eyes would meet and both couldn't help but grin as their lips would touch once again. Had it been any other day, Lily would have been worried sick about what thoughts would have been going through her mother's head. But now?

Well, now…she was in love…it didn't make a difference.

But there was so much to worry about…Life for Lily could never be as simple as lying in a lover's arms. Could it? Would it? There were her parents…whose recognition she constantly beseeched. There was Jonathan, who she couldn't help but feel guilty about betraying his trust. He was different—nothing like the other men that Lily's parents had thrown at her. He seemed kind…Lily knew that she wouldn't be able to bring herself to break his heart.

Most of all, sitting on a pedestal high among the rest was James. James Potter. What was it about him that was so attractive—so alluring…? Lily knew either way that nothing was going to change her feelings for him. They had only seen him—what was it—three times? But in those few meetings, those hours—Lily had found something that she had been searching for whole life. She had found love.

She turned around, facing James. Lily couldn't help but smile softly as he too looked extremely thoughtful, happy nonetheless. James caught her gaze, flashing a crooked smile as he leaned in once again, kissing Lily deeply on the lips as a hand was placed on her lower back. He didn't pull away though, his lips lingered close to Lily's ear, closer than ever—their bodies so close that they could feel each other's heat radiating off each other.

"Did you know that your eyes sparkle in the light?" he inquired innocently, his spare hand intertwined in Lily's long hair. "It makes you more beautiful than I could have ever imagined."

Lily flushed, smiling shyly as her mouth found James's, the two melting together into a passionate kiss. She did not pull away either. Instead, Lily's lips lingered next to James's ear, her warm breath tickling his neck as she whispered, "If _that_ was all you wanted, all you had to do was ask."

James grinned, enveloping Lily in his arms. Her chin rested on his chest as she stared up into his hazel eyes with adoration. "But I must be honest—your eyes have never looked so brilliant." His words couldn't be truer. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was just James, but Lily seemed happier than she had been in a very long time. It showed in everything she did—especially her smile.

She flushed at his words, resting her head against his chest, once again listening to the steady beating of James's heart. It must have been well past twelve midnight. The old Lily would have been worried about what her mother would think, but at this point, she truthfully didn't give a damn. It didn't seem to faze Lily that eventually she would have to face the facts.

Her parents wouldn't allow this.

* * *

James sighed contentedly as Lily curled up against his chest. Even through the chilly night air, he hadn't felt warmer in his entire life. It seems as though, in spite of everything, the happiness that Lily had brought to him was becoming a constant reminder that his life wasn't going to turn out as badly as he had originally thought. The thought of Rose dying seemed so unfathomable just days before—but once Lily had talked him through it—the idea of living without Rose—as frightening as it sounded—seemed manageable—if not that, then possible.

He was always afraid of love—afraid of trusting someone, and getting nothing in return. It was something that despite his affairs with numerous women had always carried with him. And now? Now, every doubt, every ounce of mistrust that he had ever felt for the feeling of love was melting away. Lily had changed him. For the better or worse, James did not know. But he had been changed. For good.

James glanced down at Lily. God, she was so beautiful. The light blush that rose to her cheeks from the cold, or the way her lips curled into a slight smile whenever he would say something particularly humorous. Or her laughs, so delicate and melodious, like a music box. Or the way she understood James completely, a feat that barely anyone he knew could truly manage. Besides Rose of course. But that was Rose. This was different.

He couldn't spot any faults in Lily. Maybe there were some, still uncovered by the naked eye. But by now James knew very well, without a second thought that he had fallen into love. And hard.

But class—this goddamned class wouldn't allow it. There was no way that he could possibly be with someone as talented and beautiful as Lily Evans, when he was a mere working class boy. Perhaps she didn't want it either way—maybe she simply pitied James…

"You should go." James said softly, helping Lily up. His hazel eyes met her jade orbs, and instantly felt his stomach lurch. Again—this was strange, seeing as no woman could dream of making his stomach twist in the ways that it did now. "I know…" Lily responded, cupping James's face. She didn't want to go…but she needed to. Her mother probably would be worried sick…But there was James…so handsome and welcoming….but there was something different about his face.

It looked anxious—like an impatient child—just waiting to spill out a secret they had heard. Concern swept across Lily's fine features. "James—is there something wrong?"

"Yes…there is actually." James whispered into her ear staring blankly at the lake in front of them. "I…can I ask you something before you go?"

Lily turned around again, entangling a hand in his messy hair a smile tugging on her lips. "What is it?"

"It's just…you're didn't come here because you, I dunno…pity me?" asked a quiet voice, very much unlike himself. Why had he felt such a need to ask that damned question? Why couldn't he have just minded his business? Lily silenced him with a deep kiss, her warm tongue slipping into his mouth. James returned the kiss with just as much fire as hers had held.

"If I didn't want to be here, then trust me—I wouldn't have stayed. I really think I'm in love with you." She whispered, as though it were a forbidden secret. Lily kissed James once again before heading down the trail towards her home. James's hand lingered on his lips as he silently watched Lily track off into the night. He shook his head quietly, before murmuring to himself. "I really do hope so."

* * *

Janice Evans sat in the foyer of their spacious home, impatiently tapping her foot as she stared at the grandfather clock opposite her. It was a quarter to one in the morning, and still her daughter had not returned. Where on earth Lily had gone off to, she did not know, but her explanation has better be good. This wasn't like Lily. Lily was such a lovely girl…she didn't go off meandering in the middle of the night—did she?

She knew better than to alert her husband, Richard. He had already been sleeping, and thought better of worrying him with such thoughts. Janice's thoughts however were interrupted by a soft creaking noise. Lily was home. She looked immensely flushed—in an intense state of carelessness to the world around her. Almost as though she were in a trance.

"Mother!" she Lily whispered, her expression shocked. "I…I…" she murmured, a blush rising into her cheeks. Janice wasn't going to let her daughter live this down. She needed to know where she had been off to in such hours of the night.

"Lillian." Her mother spoke firmly, her eyes boring into Lily's emerald ones. "Where have you been off to in such hours of the night?" Her lower lip quivered as her hands sat folded her lap. She had never known her daughter to be like this—never.

"Mother…" Lily whispered softly, kneeling on the floor beside her. "You must listen to me…I…I think I've fallen in love…but not with Jonathan mother…its this boy—James Potter…he's so lovely mother, if only you—"

"James Potter?" Janice murmured, shaking her head. "Don't tell me you were off with him…"

"Mother…please!" Lily begged, taking her hands gently. "He's so loving, and even if I was off with him—if you just gave him a chance." Her eyes were pleading than they had ever been. It had been so long—so long that Lily let her mother take control of everything in her life. Perhaps just this once…she could understand….

"Lillian…what about Jonathan?" her mother asked softly, stroking her cheek, trying her very hardest not to lose her temper. She had liked that handsome young man so much, he seemed so pleasant—why is it that Lily wanted of all people—to be with that—boy?

"Jonathan Harrison is a lovely man…" Lily said with a sigh. "But I don't love him. I love James….Just like you love father…You love father, don't you?" She asked hesitantly, gazing into her mother's beautiful eyes.

Janice paused, sighing deeply. Ignoring her daughter's questions, she simply stated. "Lily—get to bed." Lily widened her eyes, seeming disappointed and shocked at the same time. Didn't her mother love her father? Why had she called her Lily? It seemed so strange—she hadn't called her Lily so often since she was a girl.

"I…alright." She muttered, turning on her heel, still slightly awestruck of the surreal tone this night had been having. She made her way up to her room, gently shutting the door behind her. With a small smile, Lily pushed all problems and thoughts to the back of her mind. No worries about her mother, Jonathan, or anyone else around her. No one else but James.

She was in love.

* * *

**A/N: Ooooh Drama and lots of Fluff! I'd love some feedback, and what you expect to come!**

Sara, you can squee as well if you want to. lol


	12. Gatherings

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

**A/N: I would love to give a great thanks to all my AM-A-ZING reviewers.**

**Sorry this is so insanely short. I didn't want to leave all my readers hanging, and I promise, Lily's half will be up soon! In the meantime, check out some of my Across the Universe and oneshot fics!**

Searching For Love

Chapter 12- Gatherings

After Lily had left him to return home, James decided that it was time for him to make his way back to home as well. He was surprised, in sense that he managed to actually make his way back. His head had been in the clouds. God, Lily was a great kisser. Not to mention the fact that she was indescribably beautiful, especially when she smiled in James's direction.

Rose had already fallen asleep by the time James had gotten home. Wary not to awaken his sister, James snuck past her room, gently shutting the door to his behind him. Collapsing onto his bed, he felt wide awake. This night had been—to say the least—overwhelming. If he wasn't sure before, then James was certain of it now.

With that in mind, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. The following morning, James was awoken by a loud hacking noise. At first, James wasn't quite sure what it was…but as he groggily forced himself awake, he slowly realized that it was Rose, in the midst of a coughing fit. He fixed her up some tea, sitting down on the bed beside her. "Are you okay?" he asked Rose, handing off the steaming teacup to his sister.

Rose smirked, sipping the tea in satisfaction. "As good as I can be for someone whose dying." she added sarcastically, watching her brother's face fall in response. "Hey…listen…no crying. No more worrying about me James…okay? I'm going to die. But if I spend the rest of my life worrying if I'm going to die, then when I finally do—I would have spent all that time worrying." she paused, taking his hand gently. "You know?" 

James grinned, hugging Rose tightly. "Yeah. I do." And with good reason was Rose right. James couldn't spend his time worrying about whether or not Rose was going to make it. If he did—then she would have been gone quicker than he would have in any other circumstance. James was about to open his mouth to ask Rose what she wanted to do today, when it seemed that she already had a conversation in mind.

"Tell me, James. Where were you last night, after I went to bed?" Rose pondered curiously, sitting up on the bed, leaning closer to James. "And tell me…where were you after I went to bed that would require your attendance until one in the morning?"

James shifted on the spot, his eyes flicking back up to meet Rose's stunning blue ones, his cheeks flushed. "I went…out?"

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" she asked amused, folding her arms across her chest.

James sighed in resignation. "Fine. I went out with Lily."

"Lily…?" Rose muttered to herself, scanning her mind for the possibility that she knew anyone named Lily. "Oh…Lily…is it that scarlet haired woman Sirius told me about?" James's jaw dropped.

"Sirius told you about Lily?" he asked, his mouth slightly ajar in shock at this revelation. "When did he get around to doing that?" James hadn't been talking that much with his best mate—he only hoped that he wouldn't be too angry with him. 

"Oh I don't know…it was one day when you were out with Lily I guess. He came over." She smirked. "So tell me, what were you and Lily doing?" 

James chuckled. "What do you think?" Rose shook her head at her older brother. She had heard things about women of a higher class. They didn't like to associate themselves with people of classes beneath them. It never worked out for several reasons. First, snooty women liked men that could satisfy their fiscal needs. Someone like James, on such a low paying salary could never do that. Second, parents usually chose their daughter's husbands. There was no way that any high class mother or father would allow someone like James to marry their pure-bred daughter. And most importantly…the family values would not want their bloodline to be infected with street-blood. Apparently, nothing was ever good enough for these kinds of people.

Rose hoped that James would realize that before he got his record or heart broken.

"Can I meet her?" Rose asked suddenly, her eyes bright with excitement. She knew that if James would allow her to meet Lily, she would be able to tell whether or not this girl was serious.

James paused for a moment, considering the thought. Would Lily want to meet his sister? Or would she not give a damn about his family, like most of the girls he's dated have? Or were he and Lily even dating in the first place? What was her definition of a courtship in the first place? "Yeah." James blurted, not knowing whether or not it was the right decision. "I'm sure she'll want to meet you." he grinned.


End file.
